


Ai Laik Wanheda

by Samm07Maurer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Badass Clarke, Badass Lexa, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Lesbian Character, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Clexa, Commander Lexa, F/F, F/M, Heda, Heda Lexa, Multi, Protective Lexa, Sad Clarke, Titus Being an Asshole, and Lexa is a little gay puddle, and maybe kiss her, as usual, clarke is wanheda, just a little, she is haunted by the things she has done, wanheda, who just wants to help her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 26,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6853366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samm07Maurer/pseuds/Samm07Maurer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened after Clarke turned her back on Camp Jaha, leaving everything and everyone she knew behind. She's defeated the mountain, but can she defeat the monsters that have taken up residence inside of her head?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leida Klark kom Skaikru; Hei Wanheda

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

"I think we deserve a drink," Bellamy smirked as they walked towards the gates. 

Clarke stopped in her tracks, having already made up her mind and not daring to move any further towards camp, "Have one for me."

He turned to face her, confusion on his face and disbelief in his eyes as he realized what was happening. "Hey, we can get through this." 

But Clarke shook her head. "I'm not going in."

Bellamy turned to face her, desperate for her to stay, "Clarke, if you need forgiveness, I'll give that to you," he waited until she met his gaze to continue, "You're forgiven." 

She turned away for him, searching the faces of those in Camp Jaha as Bellamy continued to plead. 

"Please. Come inside." 

But she couldn't.

She turned to Bellamy with a pained expression, a burning need to know they would be taken care of while she was gone, "Take care of them for me." 

"Clarke-" 

"No." She interrupted, "Seeing their faces every day...is just gonna remind me of what I did to get them here."

Bellamy could tell he was in a losing battle, but he was determined to make her understand. "What we did." 

He shook his head, "You don't have to do this alone." 

Clarke turned again to gaze at the people in Camp Jaha. Her people.

She saw her friends, gathered together, and her mother, lying on the ground waiting for medical attention. A lump formed in her throat at the thought of leaving them, but she knew she had to. 

When she answered, her voice was thick and she nodded, "I bear it, so they don't have to." 

Bellamy's heart was breaking and his eyes were glassy, but he knew that there was no changing her mind, in a last ditch effort he asked, "Where are you gonna go?" 

Clarke thought about it, trying to come up with something to ease his mind, but shook her head and answered honestly, "I don't know."

They stared into each other's eyes, trying to memorize the other's face, not knowing when they would see each other again. Clarke stepped forward and kissed Bellamy's cheek, squeezing her eyes shut against the wave of emotions washing over her. He pulled her into a hug and held on to her for dear life as she buried her face in his shoulder. 

Clarke whispered in his ear, "May we meet again." 

She stepped back and held him at arm's length, holding his gaze for a moment longer, and then she turned without another glance to him or Camp Jaha, knowing that even one more glance would break her. 

She heard Bellamy take a deep breath before whispering back, "May we meet again."

She could feel his stare on her back the entire way to the treeline.

As soon as she passed the treeline, she took off in a sprint, not knowing which direction she was headed, and not caring. Tears fell steadily down her face as her legs carried her through the trees. She stopped only once, when she came to a small river, quickly peeling off her outer layer and scrubbing the blood from her skin and clothes, using her nails to scratch her at her skin a little harder than necessary. 

She pulled the wet clothes back on and continued to run towards the setting sun. She weaved through the trees along the river with little more than her memory to guide her.

Cresting a hill, she broke free of a dense patch of branches that snagged at her clothes and scratched at her face and her arms. She tripped on a fallen tree and rolled freely down a steep hill, a natural landslide created by the mud of recent rains that served her purpose more effectively and sped up her escape from the observant gaze of her people that she seemed to still feel on her back, though she was miles away from camp. 

As the sun disappeared and the stars came out, she followed the Orion constellation, allowing it to guide her wherever it may lead. The darkness of night always brought back a sense of home for Clarke, who had grown up in space. Darkness was comfortable, darkness was familiar. Until it had been ripped away from her.

The only sounds she heard were the snapping of branches beneath her feet and the gasps of her own breath as sobs worked their way from her throat. She stopped to lean against a tree, catching her breath. A primal scream of anguish tore it's way out of her as she braced herself against the rough bark.

She sunk to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest and she sobbed, the most broken that she had ever been, rocking back and forth on the forest floor.

The next thing she knew, she was being tackled to the ground and there was a knife to her throat. 

"Chon yu bilaik?" A girl no older than twenty sneered, menace in her voice. 

Clarke's eyes widened, "Ai laik Klark kom Skaikru."

Realization dawned on the girls face and she helped Clarke off the ground. "My apologies, Wanheda." 

Clarke stared, wide-eyed. "What did you just call me?" 

The girl started walking back towards a light in the distance that Clarke hadn't noticed before.

"Wanheda. The Commander of Death. You slew the mountain men, did you not?" 

Clarke only nodded as she flinched back. 

"My name is Niylah. My father and mother were both taken by the mountain. Thanks to you, I got one of them back. My father and I own a trading post on the edge of Azgeda territory. You are welcome anytime." 

Clarke looked up, surprised, "Thank you."

They entered the trading post and Niylah walked to a room further back in the house, telling Clarke she was free to look around.She returned a few minutes later, a blanket and some grounder armor in her hands. 

"I figured you might need these for the night." 

Clarke nodded, grateful. "Mochof, Niylah. But I have nothing to give you." 

She waved her hand, "Consider it a thank you on behalf of my father." 

Clarke didn't want to overstay her welcome, so she headed for the door. "Hod op! You are welcome to stay the night here, Klark." 

So she did.

They stayed up together that night, sitting in Niylah's bed in the back of the house. Clarke told her the story of the fall of the mountain and about how and why she had left her people. Niylah had in return offered Clarke a place to stay with her. 

When she refused, Niylah had insisted on showing Clarke some basic survival skills, so they headed back out into the night air, Clarke carrying a new backpack with some supplies Niylah said she might need. As they walked, Niylah began to teach Clarke some Trigedasleng. She picked it up rather quickly and soon they were having full conversations in the grounder's native tongue.

Niylah left when the sun was beginning to rise, having to get back in case someone came in to trade. Before she left, she made Clarke promise to keep coming into the shop once every few weeks for supplies and to check in. 

"Ai swega yu klin."

With that, the girls shook hands in the traditional grounder way and parted ways.

Clarke's first order of business as the sun came over the horizon was changing her identity. She knew there would be people coming after her. Whether it was her people wanting Clarke back or one of the twelve grounder nations wanting the head of Wanheda, it didn't matter. 

She wasn't going to be found unless she wanted to be. But that didn't mean she wouldn't make a mistake. Best case scenario they would never find her, but she had to ensure that even if they did, they wouldn't know it was her. It was time to embrace what she had become.

Clarke was dead. She had died on that mountain just like everyone else.

She was Wanheda. The Commander of Death.

She gathered some berries from a nearby bush and climbed one of the nearest trees. She laid the blanket Niylah had given her over the branch and sat down. She used her hands to crush the berries in a bowl. Then, she set to dying her hair from its natural blonde to a dark bloody red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chon yu bilaik- who are you  
> Ai laik Klark kom Skaikru- I am Clarke of the Sky People  
> Mochof- Thank you  
> Ai swega yu klin- I promise  
> Leida Klark kom Skaikru; Hei Wanheda- Goodbye Clarke of the Sky People; hello Commander of Death


	2. Yu Gonplei Ste Odon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke attempts to fix her mistakes and clear her conscience with one final act as Clarke Griffin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

The first week was the worst.

The forest that was once so alive and inviting just sent chills up Clarke's spine. The frigid bite of the night air made her shiver as she refused to stop moving and the trees rushed by her. The trees that had sheltered her with their canopies of green leaves were just dark shapes in the night, their branches sharp and rough as they clawed against her skin. The ground was muddy from rain, the moisture seeping into her boots and keeping her chilled long after the storm was gone.

She didn't have a destination, hadn't left with one in mind either. The only place she wanted to go was away. Her main light source was the moon and stars, most of their light hidden by the treetops, so she kept stumbling.

Clarke's only companions now were the dead. The souls of those she had killed traveled alongside her as she trekked on, each step agonizing to take under their watchful glares.

She hadn't eaten. They wouldn't let her. When she tried to sleep, they would scream. That was when things were their most unbearable for her. That's when she broke. She couldn't handle their screaming.

The victims in Mount Weather followed her silently, their skin pale and their eyes lifeless. Their mouths hung open like they were screaming in agony, agony she had caused when she pulled that lever. She was thankful they never made much noise.

Wells was with her a lot too, though he was more vocal than the others. He was angry because Clarke had really believed he would turn her dad in. He was angry she didn't realize Charlotte wanted him dead. She could've saved him if she had, he told her. He yelled at her most often for continuing to protect Charlotte after he was buried.

The sight of Finn was a near constant in her life. He'd tell her of all her mistakes. He'd known about the knife Raven gave her. He knew it was meant for Lexa. He was angry she'd used it to kill him instead. He liked to remind Clarke that he'd had his heart broken and live taken in the same day.

But the one who really got to her, the one who always ended up cracking her attempt at a stoic mask, was her father. Jake blamed his daughter for his death. She had tried to convince him not to go public, but she hadn't tried hard enough. She could have done more. It was his words that cut Clarke the deepest.

The ghosts of the dead wouldn't let her rest, and so Clarke journeyed on.

It was in a panic after a nightmare that she ran through the dark forest without any light to see where she was going. She tripped on a fallen tree and tumbled down a large hill. She did not get back up.

Clarke simply dragged her aching body to lean against the rough bark of a fallen oak tree. And it was there, in the darkness and covered in mud, that she finally snapped for the first time since her she left Camp Jaha and her people behind.

She cried with a pain like her brain was being torn apart inside her head. She released a scream that was more raw and primal than she ever had before. She gripped her knees to keep her shaking body together when it seemed all she could do was fall apart. The world disappeared from around her as all the souls began to scream every wrong thing she had ever done.

All that was left for Clarke was the pain. A pain strong enough to break her apart and change her beyond recognition.

She collapsed like there was too much raw pain inside her to be contained in such a small vessel. She cried like her spirit needed to break loose from her skin and her body was desperate to release an elemental rage on the world. 

She was beyond all reason, beyond all natural methods of calming.

They wanted her dead. And she wanted to die.

 

 

In the midst of one of her many episodes, Clarke was sprinting through the trees trying to distance herself from the voices in her head. Her feet kissed the earth beneath her with each frantic step. Her arms bat at the branches reaching out to scratch her face, hitting and marking up her arms instead. 

She broke through the trees and was thrust into a field. And there it was, its metal walls reaching towards the sky like a skeleton's hand.

The Dropship.

But what was once a place covered in ash and bones, was now a soft meadow of green grass and purple flowers. It's beautiful in a twisted way, Clarke thought to herself, how the site of a tragedy can become new again.

She took off her boots, completely forgetting the faces around her. She felt the damp earth beneath her feet, felt the cool grass in between her toes. She closed her eyes and breathed in the crisp morning air as the sun shone down on her face.

She looked around at the people haunting her. Those she had known and those she hadn't gotten to meet. They were sitting in the meadow with her, not speaking, just being. They were peaceful here, Clarke realized.

It was then that she made her decision. She may not have been able to bring them back, but she could at least give them some honor in death with a proper burial. And maybe one day, she thought, they could have their own meadow of flowers to enjoy. She opened her eyes and picked a bunch of flowers, placing them in her backpack before she began venturing to the site of the massacre.

Her massacre.

She placed one foot in front of the other and began her journey to Mount Weather. The closer she got, the less she wanted to continue. She knew she wasn't ready to go back there, not yet. So she stayed a few miles into the tree line for three days, working up the nerve to continue on her mission. On the fourth day, she woke up determined.

No more running. No more hiding.

Clarke hiked the rest of the way, breaking through the trees and stepping up to the field where the battle had taken place. She sunk to her knees at the sight before her.

The sounds of swords clashing and rapid gunfire had long been replaced by an eerie silence. The sunset that had illuminated the battle was gone, replaced by the sunrise, glinting off the fallen weapons of the dead.

There were bodies everywhere. It was no longer a battlefield, it was a graveyard for the unburied. Grounders, Skaikru, and Mountain Men lay equal in death.

She felt tears sting her eyes, but held them at bay. All Clarke could think about was that she'd caused this. It was all her fault. She took a deep breath, cleared her face of all emotion, and set to work.

She dropped her backpack from her shoulders and pulled out a needle and some thin wire. She didn't have any thread, so this would have to do. She stitched their wounds with shaking hands and used a rag and water to wipe their hands and faces free of blood. She worked in groups of five, that small consistency kept her sane as she worked.

Her mind was on autopilot. Stitch the wounds. Clean the blood. Dig the graves. Stitch the wounds. Clean the blood. Dig the graves.

She dug each grave by hand, carefully laid the body in it, and placed a small purple flower in each person's hands. She closed their eyes with her own trembling fingers. She decided to leave them uncovered until she was done with everyone. She continued working five at a time. Five at a time, until her body gave out from exhaustion. She opened her eyes the next morning and begin again.

It took about four days for all the bodies of those outside to be placed in graves. She then went back and covered each body with dirt, her resolve breaking, and shed a few tears for each. She retreated back into the cover of the trees, not able to face what she had done, she allowed herself one day of rest. And for once, the souls didn't scream.

She woke up and walked back to the mountain. She set to fixing the Grounders' wounds and cleaning their faces. When she was done she returned to the forest to gather wood. She brought it back and stacked it up, creating funeral pyres. She picked up the bodies and carefully laid them on a pyre. She created a torch and stood in front of each pyre, offering the words, "Yu gonplei ste odon," before lighting it.

They deserved a warrior's death, and that's what Clarke gave them. She sat and watched them burn. The flames danced in front of her eyes, reaching hungrily for anything they could consume. They consumed everything they touched if they could take something and reduce it to ashes, they would. The fire burned hot, painful, and brilliant in the setting sun. It had taken her six days to clear the battlefield.

When she went back into the forest, she again allowed herself one day to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yu Gonplei Ste Odon- Your fight is over


	3. Earth's Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

Clarke woke up resigned, knowing today she would actually have to venture back into the mountain. 

She walked down the empty hallways as the feeling of death cut through her clothes and clung to her skin. She felt sorrow settle deep within her bones as she counted the dead, there was no way to heal their wounds, no way to clear their bodies of the blood that caked their skin.

She carried them out one by one, dug a grave and laid each woman down. She kneeled beside them, using her fingers to softly brush their hair free of the tangled, bloody knots. She placed a purple flower in their hands and silently covered them with dirt.

It took her two days to bury the women.

 

 

The next day was spent hunting.

Clarke woke up on the ground, and the world refused to remain in focus. She hadn't eaten in weeks. Her clothes hung off her frame more than they ever had before. Her body was dehydrated and she was starving. Though the feeling of hunger had become constant about a week and a half ago, she had ignored it until now the need to finish her job at Mount Weather overpowering even her basic survival instincts. 

She sat up slowly and the world spun. It vaguely crossed her mind that if she didn't eat soon, she was going to die. She stood, pushing herself up using a tree for support. When the world cleared enough that she could make out a path through the fuzzy vegetation, she grabbed her sword and took off. 

She hunted all day in the heat with no luck.

Around sunset, she came across a small stream, she washed her hands and her face in the frigid water. She managed to catch two fish and spent the night by a fire, devouring her first meal in seemingly forever. When she was finished she smothered the embers and laid back to watch the stars. She closed her eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.

 

 

Clarke opened her eyes to the early morning sun peeking through the branches of trees. She got up and drank some water that she had gathered at the stream yesterday and boiled. She packed her stuff up and ran back to the mountain, ready to finish her duty.

Seventy-eight. There were seventy-eight children.

She fell to her knees outside the looming structure and dug out seventy-eight graves, smaller than the others around them. Her body was moving of its own accord as she mentally prepared herself for what she was about to do. With a deep, shuddering breath, she stood and stopped in front of the door. With one more quaking breath, she stepped inside.

She walked slowly through the hallways, pausing to scrub blood from the walls whenever she came across it. She entered the schoolroom first. Clarke carried them out, their bodies a lot lighter than the adults.

She filled each grave slowly and each young face she covered was another knife in her heart. By the time she was done, she could hardly breathe. 

She did one last sweep through each room, determined to guarantee that she hadn't missed anyone.

She hadn't.

She stepped out of the mountain for the last time and sealed the door shut, she refused to ever let it be opened again.

 

 

She spent the rest of her day wandering around the new graveyard. She spoke a few words for those she had known and shed quiet tears for those she hadn't. Many of those haunting her knelt down and laid in their graves, thanking her for their peace. They looked at her with sad eyes, knowing she would never truly be free of the events that took place there. They closed their eyes for a final time and slipped into their eternal sleep.

As Clarke walked, she whispered words to the fallen. To every man, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

To every woman, "You didn't deserve this. It wasn't supposed to end like this."

As she passed piles of ashes from the funeral pyres she recited, "Yu gonplei ste odon," and bowed her head in respect.

And as Clarke reluctantly shuffled towards the child graves, she fell to her knees before them. They were just children, innocent. They hadn't been a part of the war they had lost their lives in. Their stories had just begun, they weren't supposed to have ended.

For them, she recited the Traveler's Prayer. "In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground." 

As she choked out the final line, grief overcame her, stronger than ever before. "May we meet again." 

At last, Clarke felt a large weight being released from her chest. She had made some of this better. She had at least tried to fix a small part of this disaster. But pain crushed her at the same time. It was a grief that destroyed her soul and refused to allow her lungs oxygen. It was a grief that was never-ending. It was the type of emotion that was always silent. And that made it all the more deadly.

As she sat, leaning against a tree, and looked out at the sea of fresh graves, she was hit with another wave of peace. The dead were resting, and she had done her job. Those who had been haunting her left her. She had brought them peace.

It began to rain softly, and Clarke turned her face to the sky. The droplets burst against her face, mixing with the gentle tears flowing from her eyes. The rain was watering the Earth's newest garden and the thought made her smile.

It was cool against her skin, not as cold as it would be in winter, but without the warmth of the summer showers. She gave one last glance at the fallen and stood, ready to leave this place behind forever.

She stood from her spot on the ground and turned to the forest. The sun was setting, just grazing the tops of the trees. She had about a four-hour journey if she ran back to Azgeda. She turned back to gaze at the mountain one last time, and, imagining it's grass covered in soft purple petals she whispered, "May we meet again."

Then, she started running. She was determined to reach it in two.

 

 

She knew Niylah would be furious with her. Clarke hadn't checked in in about three and a half weeks. As she stepped over fallen branches and deep puddles, the rain continued to fall in sheets. It washed away the sweat and dirt on her skin and clothes, the droplets clung to her hair and her lashes, they ran off her nose and her chin.

She didn't worry about leaving tracks, the rain would wash them away. Clarke prayed that the rain continued, it was her only companion now that the dead were gone.

She stopped only once to hunt, successfully killing a deer. She couldn't even watch as she pulled the trigger. She walked all through the rest of the evening and into the night. She reached the trading post as the moon was at it's highest peak.

She walked in, her hair dripping it's red hue and dragging her kill behind her. Niylah looked up from behind one of the tables and met Clarke's gaze, eyes widening at her appearance.

"Mounin houm, Klark."

Clarke stiffened, "Beja, Niylah. Don't call me that."

"Ai fop, Wanheda."

Clarke nodded.

"So," Niylah began as she slung the deer onto the table, "how have you been?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mounin houm, Klark- welcome back, Clarke  
> Beja- Please  
> Ai fop, Wanheda- My mistake, Commander of Death


	4. Longing For Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke continues to be haunted by her past actions, and she can't resist a pretty girl...but who can?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

"Don't make me do this." Clarke rasped into the radio.

She was standing in the control room in Mt. Weather and as she watched her friends and mother being harvested for bone marrow, she knew she was running out of time. The barrel of her pistol was currently pointed directly at the chest of the Mountain Men's leader, Dante. Clarke was really hoping she wasn't going to have to add his blood to her hands, especially after he had helped her. 

There was a pause on the radio and Clarke started to get worried that her plan wouldn't work. Then, a shaky voice came through, "Dad?" They turned to the camera and saw Cage with the radio, "I promise I'll take care of our people." 

Dante turned to Clarke with wide eyes, realizing his son was condemning him to death. He shook his head, hoping to reason with the blonde, "None of us has a choice here, Clarke."

Clarke shook her head to ward off the building tears, furrowing her brow and licking her lips before speaking honestly, "I didn't want this."

"Neither did I-" He tried.

She fired a round into his chest, cutting him off. Clarke lowered her weapon and watched as the older man struggled. It was slowly becoming harder for her to breathe as she watched the red stain on the front of his shirt grow bigger with each moment. Her eyes watered further when she watched him hit the floor, another body to add to her death count.

She looked up and saw her friends looking at her like a monster. Maybe she was one.

She wiped every emotion off her face and spoke again into the radio, steeling her voice and giving in to the monster they all thought she was, "Listen to me very carefully. I will not stop until my people are free. If you don't let them go, I will irradiate level five."

When she received no immediate response she tried again, softer this time, "Cage, listen to me. I don't want anyone else to die. Stop the drilling and we can talk. There must be a way to get us all out of this."

As they studied him on the monitors, they saw Emerson coming for them in another camera. She put Monty in charge of changing the locks on the door and turned back in time to see Cage leaving from view. 

"Where's he going?" Bellamy asked.

The realization hit Clarke like a truck, "The dorm." All of her friends were there. She stopped thinking rationally, "Monty, can you do it? Can you irradiate the level?"

He turned to her, his eyes wide with fear at the mere suggestion, but admitted, "I can do it."

Bellamy stepped in, "Wait for a second, Clarke. We need to think about this. There are kids in there." 

"I know," Clarke whispered in a thick voice.

He continued to plead, "People who helped us."

Clarke was ready to beg, "Please, give me a better idea."

When he didn't respond she turned back to the monitors. Cage had grabbed Abby and strapped her onto the drilling table.

Clarke watched with a horrified expression, "What have I done?"

She was forced to watch as they drilled into her mother for bone marrow. Her decision had never been easier than in that moment and Bellamy could see it in her eyes, "Clarke, if we do this there is no going back!"

She couldn't be swayed. She turned to Monty and nodded, "Figure it out."

The moments of watching her mother's torture were agonizing and slow. She tore her eyes from the screen when she heard Bellamy whisper, "No."

She turned to see what he was looking at and saw Octavia, running down the hallway and then taking out two guards with her sword. Clarke frowned, that wasn't part of the plan.

Everything seemed to happen very quickly after that.

Emerson was trying to kick down the door. Jasper was caught and brought in for drilling, displayed on one of the screens. Clarke couldn't tell if her mom was moving anymore. Octavia was cornered in the dining room, surrounded by armed guards. Monty stopped typing.

Clarke looked at him, furious. "Why are you stopping?"

He turned to meet her gaze with a resigned look of his own, "Because I did it. All we have to do is pull this," he said pointing to a lever. "Hatches and vents will open, and the scrubbers reverse, pulling in outside air."

Everything stood still.

Bellamy raised his gun to the door, "Emerson's going to blow the door."

Monty tried to keep her focus, "Clarke we're out of time!"

She placed her hand on the lever, feeling the metal in her grip. Her decision was made, but she couldn't bring herself to actually pull it down, to kill all these people. She watched the screens as everyone she cared about was rounded up by the guards and had a gun trained on them.

Her voice broke when she whispered, "I have to save them."

She felt a hand over hers and looked to see Bellamy, "Together." 

She nodded and looked down at their hands. They pulled the lever.

 

 

Blood.

Bodies, mangled and broken, dropping like flies.

Jasper, cradling his newly-found love in his arms as she died slowly, painfully. Maya never dropping his gaze as the life left her eyes.

Men and women, slumped over at the dinner table, blisters covering their skin.

Children lying face down on the ground, their soccer balls and toys abandoned as they died.

A sea of pain and destruction, all caused by her hand alone. Clarke walked around the giant room, forcing herself to witness what she had done.

She found Jasper, Maya lifeless in his arms. He screamed in animalistic rage, "What did you do?" 

Clarke fell to her knees brokenly amid the carnage. "I had no choice."

 

 

Clarke's own screams woke her from her nightmare. Her cheeks were damp with falling tears and her body was covered in a sheen layer of sweat. The furs were twisted around her body, tangled with her limbs from thrashing around so violently.

She sat up, one hand clutching the furs to her chest and the other clawing at her pounding heart. Clarke's whole body trembled in the darkness of the room. The remnants of her nightmare still clung to the edges of her mind, though they never really left her completely anyway, so that wasn't anything new.

She turned and saw the pale skin of Niylah's bare back resting next to her in the lavish bed. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, guilt washing through her veins as she recalled their night together. She shouldn't have gone to Niylah for comfort, she'd known it was wrong, knew that Niylah had actual feelings of affection for her, and yet...she had allowed it to happen anyway.

In truth, Clarke had missed physical contact with another human. For about a month now, she hadn't had someone to hold and comfort her, someone to worship and cherish her body. 

And when Niylah had helped redye the red into Clarke's hair, she hadn't pushed her away when she felt Niylah's lips on her shoulder, on her neck, on her lips. She hadn't pushed her away, had enjoyed it actually, when they had fallen onto the bed, Niylah's tongue and teeth leaving marks down her body.

Now, pulling on her clothes as quickly as possible without making a sound, Clarke felt the shame rip through her chest. She didn't regret what they had done, not at all, but she wished she was been able to return the feelings that Niylah expressed. She deserved someone who was going to love her in return. 

And Clarke just couldn't.

Not when there was a certain pair of green eyes that haunted her.

Not when she couldn't love herself.

Clarke stood and kissed Niylah's forehead, "Bosh Moba, Niylah. Ai nou bilaik hod yu in. Nou enimou. Ai na noumou laksen yu."

Clarke stood and went to the front of the trading post, gathering her supplies. Double checking she had everything, she turned and walked out into the night air. She looked up at the stars and released a few tears and a shuddering breath for the sweet girl that she had to leave behind.

With one final glance at the small building, she turned and trekked back into the trees, unsure when, or if, she would ever return again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bosh Moba, Niylah. Ai nou bilaik hod yu in. Nou enimou. Ai na noumou laksen yu- I am sorry, Niylah. I can not love you. Not anymore. I will only hurt you


	5. We Found Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something to keep you sated. I'm working on the next part as you read this, it should be out soon. Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

The celebration of the fall of the mountain had lasted a week, a festival filled with joy unlike any she had ever seen. Their most fearsome enemy, fallen. They could travel the woods without worry of being captured, their people would no longer be turned into Reapers. 

But at what cost?

Lexa was haunted with the look of utter betrayal that passed on Clarke's face, hours after they had kissed and made the promise of a someday. Blue eyes so hurt and disappointed, they plagued her sleep, watched her every move from the corners of Lexa's mind.

She had sent a team of warriors to assist the Sky People after she had made sure all of her people were a safe distance away. What she did not expect was them to return a short time later saying that the mountain had already fallen, everyone inside dead and left where they stood. She did not expect to hear that no one was there, they had left everything inside and moved back to their camp.

It was two weeks later that she sent out more scouting teams. One to go to their camp and to offer aid in any way they could and one to explore the mountain further. She sent one man specifically to give her reports on a certain blonde. Lexa had to know if she was alive. 

Her teams had returned this morning.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa sat rigidly on her throne in Polis. Her teams of warriors and healers stepped forward and kneeled in submission as she stood. 

"Rise." 

They stood and lined up in front of her. 

"What do you have to report." 

A healer stepped forward, "They would not allow us to help them. We were forced back into the tree line under threats of being killed. In their minds, the alliance is broken and void." 

Lexa nodded, she had expected something like this. "And what of Kl-?"

She was cut off by Indra throwing the doors open and storming into the room. 

"Indra. What is the meaning of this!"

Indra bowed her head. "Heda. Skaikru came storming into TonDc with guns, demanding we give them back Klark kom Skaikru."

Lexa turned to her general. "Is this true with what you observed?" 

He stepped forward. "Sha, Heda. I approached the gate, asking specifically for her. They told me she was not there. They thought we had captured her."

Lexa narrowed her gaze at the man, "They do not know where she is?" 

"No, Heda." 

Lexa breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to quell the worry bubbling in her chest.

Turning back to Indra she asked, "What did you do with the Skaikru in TonDC." 

"They have been captured and ate being held there" 

Lexa nodded. "You will release Skaikru and send them back to their camp. Tell them we do not have Clarke. Tell them I do, however, intend to find her." 

Indra nodded and left the room.

She turned to her last team, "What are your reports of the Mountain?"

"Heda, it is unlike anything I have ever seen. The Mountain is not as it was after the battle. There are graves. One for each man slain. And piles of ashes, I believe, from our fallen brothers. Someone went back."

Clarke had gone back. 

Something happened in that Mountain that changed Clarke forever. She left her people and went back to try and fix what she did. 

She turned to her warrior, "Thank you. Go and rest. Tomorrow you will escort me to the Mountain." 

He nodded and they all left, leaving her with her thoughts.

\-----------------------------------------------------

They left when the sun had barely risen in the sky. The ride to the Mountain was spent in silence. Lexa was preparing herself for what she was about to see. She didn't know what to expect.

But when she surveyed the scene in front of her, she knew without a shadow of a doubt, that Clarke had been here. 

Rows upon rows of freshly dug graves covered the once battlefield. Each had purple flower petals on top, a final farewell and a sign for the Earth to take back what was hers. She paused at the piles of ashes, also with petals, and silently thanked Clarke for respecting her warriors.

She wanted to cry when she saw the graves of the children, smaller than the rest, and her heart ached for Clarke. She knew that the blonde had tortured herself with this task. That she had taken all the blame onto her shoulders even though that is not where it belonged.

She glanced at the door, sealed with the flower symbol. She knew it was meant to keep people from ever opening the doors again, and hoped all would respect what Clarke had done here. Lexa knew that if she were to walk the hallways of the Mountain she would find no sign of carnage, just empty, haunted rooms.

She blinked back tears as she thought of Clarke, running away from her people, the weight too heavy to bear and yet trying to bear it anyways. 

She was a true leader, but she should not have had to be. She was younger than Lexa had been when she ascended and Clarke had no training. 

The girl was thrown into the leadership role and it was going to crush her.

She thanked her warrior for bringing her and they rode back to Polis swiftly. She ordered two teams to go and search for Clarke. One would report back when they found her and the other would stay with her, at a distance, and help keep her alive. Lexa would join them when she heard news of their location.

It was three weeks later that she received any news.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Penn rushed into the throne room in the middle of her meeting with the ambassadors. 

What is the meaning of this, Penn!" 

She shouted, irritated with the interruption. 

The young boy was out of breath and barely managed to choke out, "Heda, we found her."


	6. I'm Being Hunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

Clarke vaguely remembered the layout of the 12 clans from the maps in the Commander's tent. She had originally planned to stay on the edge of Azgeda territory, her plan now amended slightly to stay far away from Niylah's, but Azgeda was huge so that wasn't really a problem. 

She hoped neither her people... were they still her people? 

She wasn't sure. 

She hoped that neither Skaikru nor the grounders would think to look for or to find her there. 

But she had gotten hungry, and the river was too cold. She didn't have the supplies or the knowledge to make a net, so walking into its icy waters was her only option for fishing. 

So, she decided to pack up her things from the cave she had been staying in, and move south, only until she had something to fill her belly. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A panther. A gracious and deadly animal. 

Clarke wasn't sure if she had found it or if it had found her. All she knew is that her stomach had gone far too long without being full. She climbed a nearby tree, using her last scraps of energy to secure her meal. She walked out onto the branch directly over the beast. She had taught herself to move as another part of the forest, and it was clearly working, for the beautiful cat never looked up.

She pulled the knife she had from its sheath on her thigh. The cool metal against her hand gave her comfort. She had disposed of her gun long ago...buried it, actually. She refused to ever touch one again. 

If that ended up killing her, then so be it. 

She waited a few more moments, holding her breath and crouching, ready for the perfect moment. 

One step...two...there. 

She jumped onto the panther's back, driving her knife between its shoulder blades.

The large cat managed to throw her off, and thankfully her blade came away in her hand. She rolled and came up in a crouch, baring her teeth and watching as it stalked her. The large cat sprang forward and she moved to stab it in the neck, but the panther was faster than she had anticipated. 

Her knife met ribs and its claws met her shoulder as they flipped. She cried out in pain and shock and managed to push the beast off of her and get to her feet as they once again began their deadly dance.

She was defenseless, her only weapon hanging out of her dinner's side. The logical thing to do was give up, but she was driven mad by hunger, and when the panther growled and bared its teeth at her, she did the same, neither willing to submit.

This time, Clarke sprang first, knocking the creature down beneath her, going for her knife with one hand while the other arm pressed against the panther's neck, keeping its fangs away as it snapped at her. She felt its claws once again dig into her back, and her strength wavered as pain tore through her. The beast knocked her over and took another swipe at her, catching her ribs, before she plunged her knife into the panther's neck, ending their struggle. 

It didn't go all the way in like it needed to and Clarke didn't want it to suffer needlessly. 

It truly was a beautiful animal and as she sat and caught her breath she offered a tired and weak, "Yu gonplei ste odon. Mochof, ai bro, hashta yu givnes."

Then she dug the knife all the way in. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Her body was on fire and screamed in protest as Clarke dragged her kill behind her. She knew she wouldn't be able to make it back to her previous home and she desperately hoped to find a new cave, or even a small outcropping, to spend the night. Her feet were dragging, her eyelids were drooping, Clarke could feel her body giving up. 

And then she heard them. 

Footsteps. Voices. 

Someone had found her.

She wanted to cry as she was forced to drop her first food in weeks and hide. She climbed a nearby tree and watched as a small group entered her vision a few minutes later. They surrounded her kill and she strained to hear their conversation.

"Os fragon."mOne man said, observing the slain panther.

"Won em din gon raun." Replied another, his voice deeper, as he scanned the area.

"Dig em au." A third voice ordered, this one feminine.

Thankfully, she did not recognize any of them. Clarke shimmied down the opposite side of the tree trunk, ready to disappear again. In her haste, she landed too hard, a branch snapping harshly under her boot. The three warriors had to have spotted her, but she didn't waste time to check. 

She ran.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Clarke's feet hit the ground quickly, one after the other, but she made no sound. They were hunting her. They had been for days now. Each night she would slip away when they were all sleeping, and yet each day they managed to find her again. 

Grounders. 

She knew if she really looked she could probably identify which clan...she didn't want to get that close. 

She figured out that they at least had orders not to harm her. They always stayed close, but they never pounced, never interacted. It seemed as though they were herding her, pushing her towards something. It put her extremely on edge. 

And so she continued to run. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

It was nighttime when Lexa reached her team a few days later. 

Clarke had traveled into the outermost edges of Azgeda. They were seated around a large fire, but stood as she entered the clearing and dismounted her horse. 

"Where is she?" 

He warriors stood and one motioned vaguely to the trees, "She is not far." 

The Commander narrowed her gaze, "And why are you not closer to her?" 

He laughed, "We were. She runs at night. Uses the trees to gain distance. We find her again each day. She can't travel very much anymore. We'll have her easily in the morning."

"Any why is that?" Lexa snapped. 

He quit laughing, "Heda. Wanheda is weak. Bleeding. Starving. She is no threat to anyone." 

The Commander's anger grows, "She bleeds. Yet you were under strict orders by me not to harm her." 

The man flinches at her tone and she inwardly smirks. "Sha, Heda. We did not harm her. We found her after she had slain a panther. It must have torn into her as well." 

Lexa wants to flinch. Clarke had been hurt and losing blood for at least a week. 

She takes a deep breath to calm herself, "Very well. We will not wait for morning. Take me to her. Now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yu gonplei ste odon. Mochof, ai bro, hashta yu givnes- Your fight is over. Thank you, my brother, for your sacrifice 
> 
> Os fragon- good kill
> 
> Won em din gon raun- one she didn't just leave
> 
> Dig em au- find her


	7. Rainstorms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion of our two favorite girls...kind of. This is actually a lot longer than I planned it to be. I was going to split it into two chapters, but I decided not to... you're welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

Clarke had been saving her strength for the past few days, only traveling a mile or so during the nights. They believed her to be weak, an easy target. 

They were wrong. 

Clarke's time in isolation had hardened her. She hadn't spoken a word of English in months, all her food was caught by her own hand, and every mile she had covered only added to her resolve. She wasn't positive how long she had been in the woods, but her guess was at least three months. She hadn't interacted with another human since Niylah, and that felt like ages ago.

She waited until they were all sitting around their fire, then she slipped away. They expected her to be close, too weak to travel far. She used that knowledge to slip away entirely. 

She kept to the trees when she could, and made it back to where she had dropped her things to hunt the panther. She picked up her backpack, wincing at the added weight on her injuries. She kept to the ground after that, moving silently in the night.

She made it back to her cave as the first few rays of sunlight filtered through the trees. She dropped her things by her makeshift mattress. Her first order of business was dealing with her wounds. And that required a fire. She was pretty much an expert by now and had a blaze roaring in a few minutes.

Clarke stripped to her chest binding, groaning slightly when her shirt pulled from where it had stuck to her gashes. She placed her heavy coat and top by her bed and pulled a needle and thread from her supplies. She sat by the fire and stitched the slices in her shirt as she waited for her knife to heat in the flames.

She watched as the morning showers rained down and was once again thankful for her shelter. 

She finished her shirt, folded it, and placed it with her other clothes. The only sounds were her boots on the stone floor, the crackle of the fire, and the light rains outside. Clarke smiled, this was the most peaceful she had felt in a while.

When the metal of her knife glowed orange, she took it and sat against the wall. Her hand was steady, her medical training kicking in. She took the leather sheath from her thigh and placed it between teeth. Breathing slowly in and out she closed her eyes and brought the knife to the first cut on her ribs.

There was a split second where she could hear the skin sizzle and felt nothing...but then she felt it all. 

She bit into the leather, muffling the sound her torment. She dragged the blade across all three marks on her rib cage before opening her eyes and returning the knife to the fire. She sat at caught her breath, dreading the next round. 

She was able to reach and cauterize three of the seven gashes on her back. One on her shoulder and three on her lower back remained open and angry, but she couldn't do anything about them.

Clarke pulled her shirt back on but left her jacket off. She sat watching the rain fall, remembering her first encounter with rain when the 100 first came down. She smiled as tears filled her eyes, and hugged her knees to her chest as she laughed bitterly, though it came out more like a sob.

They had been so young, innocent. 

The ground changed everything. 

It exposed them to pain and death and war. But the ground had also brought freedom and, in some cases, love. Clarke could hate herself for what she had become, but she realized that she could never truly hate Earth.

As the ran died down, so did her fire, and Clarke began to draw on the walls with ashes. She drew the trees and the water, the glowing butterflies and two-headed deer. Clarke drew her favorite memories of the ground. 

It wasn't until she looked back at her work that she noticed the eyes. Eyes that were surrounded by dark swirls, but were the most gentle and loving she had ever seen. Eyes that would be a green shade so unique to itself, had she had color to capture it in. 

Lexa's eyes.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa was furious. They had trekked all morning, and there was no sign of Clarke. 

"I thought you said you knew where she was." 

The warrior in question flinched, "It appears Wanheda was not as weak as I anticipated." 

Lexa snapped, "You underestimated her. And you overestimated my patience." 

Before he could process her words, Lexa drew her sword and slit his throat. Turning to the other two warriors she mounted her horse. 

"I want her found. Be swift in tracking her. I will find you again in three days time." 

With that, she turned and rode, determined to find Clarke first.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If there was one thing that was going to force Clarke to lose her mind, it was the rain. What started as a light morning shower soon turned into two days of storms. She had no fire, the wood was soaked. 

She had no food, she couldn't risk the rain washing the red dye from her hair as she hunted. The only sound was the thunder and the only real light was the lightning. Confined to her cave, she knew whoever found her would find her half-deranged.

As her mind deteriorated, her companions came back to her. They didn't yell at her anymore, in fact, they were all silent. They simply looked at her with pity. 

Clarke wasn't sure which was worse. 

She was sitting against the outer edge of the cave wall, withing reaching distance of the downpour, and yet still safe from its grasp.

She reached out slowly, feeling the cold rain pound against her flesh, the icy temperature making the droplets feel like needles against her skin. She turned, seeing the ghosts of her past still watching her with pity. She scoffed and turned back to the rain, she almost wished they would start screaming again. At least them she would have some sort of interaction to distract herself with.

Clarke realized she had absentmindedly begun drawing in the mud with her fingers. She lifted her fingers and rubbed them together, the mud cool and slick in between her hands. She looked once more between those she had killed and the mud on her fingers.

Clarke pushed herself off of the ground with a sigh. She thought about the Grounder's tradition of kill marks. Carrying a mark for each soul you had taken from life. She had originally wanted to burn marks into her skin like they did, but everything was wet, so there was no way to make any sort of fire. 

When the rain ends, she vowed.

For now, she stripped once again down to her chest binding, leaving on her pants and boots. She pulled a small bowl from her supplies and filled it with thick, black mud. Clarke sat next to her mattress, the bowl beside her. Placing her right arm in her lap, wrist up, she dipped two fingers into the mud and started creating angry, black slashes for each person she had killed, counting them off in her head.

1\. Dad

2\. Atom

3\. Tris

4\. Finn

5\. Dante

6\. Maya

She was crying by the time her sixth mark hit her elbow. She was slightly nauseous as she began counting for the 300 warriors she had burned alive. The marks went up her right arm, across her chest, and down her left arm. Both arms were completely covered in tiny, dark tallies, as was her upper chest and shoulders.

Her whole body was trembling and Clarke leaned over to retch. The only thing coming up was some water from earlier and stomach acid. But she wasn't done. 

Not even close. 

And so she wiped her mouth and continued on, her tears never ceasing to flow down her cheeks. She began counting for those in TonDC and Mount Weather. 

307...308...309...

\-------------------------------------------------------

Two days had passed. Two days and Lexa had absolutely nothing to show for her efforts. The constant rain had washed away any tracks Clarke may have had if she hadn't found her by tonight, she was going to have to meet her warriors empty handed. She was traveling up a hill, urging her horse forward, though the black mud made it slippery.

In a last ditch effort, Lexa had taken to searching places that would have kept Clarke dry. Caves and outcroppings were all over the area, and Lexa knew Clarke was smart. Caves offered warmth, protection from the elements, and a place to come back to. A constant when everything else kept changing. Lexa knew Clarke like no one else did. She would bet her life on it. Clarke was in a cave somewhere.

When she finally reached the top of the hill, she noticed the cave there. It was very well hidden, and if she hadn't been looking for it, she wouldn't have seen it. She almost dismissed it as a possibility, but something was pulling her to it. It was only when she got closer that she heard it.

Above the rain and roaring winds, in between the crashes of thunder, very faintly, Lexa could hear the sobs and whimpers of a person in great pain.

Lexa dismounted and tied her horse to a tree quickly and rushed into the cave. Nothing could have prepared her for what she found.

Clarke was on the ground, curled into herself. Her hair, a wild and tangled mess of red and blonde, was matted down with sweat. Her entire upper body was covered in little black slashes which Lexa thought to be mud, she confirmed this as she glanced at the nearby bowl. Lexa's heart broke when she noticed Clarke wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to hold herself together.

As Lexa crossed to where Clarke was, she stripped of her weapons, not wanting to alarm the distressed girl. She fell to her knees and picked the other girl off of the ground, cradling Clarke in her arms as she had dreamed of doing for months now. 

"Shh. Clarke. I'm here. You're safe now."

Clarke relaxed slightly in Lexa's arms, but she was still way too tense for Lexa's liking, so she threaded one of her hands in Clarke's hair, continuing to whisper words of comfort. Clarke stopped trembling when Lexa took the blanket from the small mattress and wrapping it tightly around both of them.

Clarke's hands fisted into the fabric of Lexa's shirt and Lexa noticed that she kept whispering one word over and over again, in between her sobs, like a sorrowful prayer, "Beja."

\-------------------------------------------------------

Clarke gripped Lexa as close as she could, fearing when this image would fade, once again leaving her alone and cold and scared. She knew it was no use, but she prayed to whatever god was out there that Lexa was actually here, holding her, loving her. Clarke sobbed, wishing her mind would stop torturing her. 

This was her most real hallucination yet.

Never before had her hallucinations touched her, spoken to her, and been warm. They always left her chilled to the bone, not warm and comfortable. So she continued to beg for this to be real, though she knew in her heart it wasn't. 

"Beja."

\-------------------------------------------------------

"Clarke," Lexa pleaded, "Clarke, tell me what's wrong."

It took a lot of begging and pleading, something Lexa wasn't used to doing, but finally, she coaxed the once blonde skai girl to choke out and answer. 

"Ai gaf in disha laik fousen." 

Lexa was a horrible mixture of shocked, confused, and heartbroken. The girl she loved believed this to be an image conjured up in her mind to torture her further. Lexa paled as she thought of what Clarke's forced self-isolation had done to her mind.

"Clarke. Clarke look at me. I'm here. I'm real, Clarke." 

All she received was a distressed sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ai gaf in disha laik fousen- I want this to be real


	8. More Than Just Surviving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

Clarke was tired. Tired of fighting each day just to survive to see the next. Death, she had decided, was easy. Living was hard. And she was so tired. 

Her body was broken and bleeding her heart had long grown cold and her mind was slipping more and more with each sunrise. The choice to take her own life was one she made easily, and it brought with it a wave of peace she had forgotten how to feel.

Her shaking ceased as did her tears. She moved calmly to the other side of the cave and sat, leaning against the wall and staring at the manifestations of her demons. Finn she was used to, her dad she was used to. Hell, she had even grown used to the occasional visits from Maya and Dante. 

But why Lexa?

She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, trying to decide. In the end, she figured she might as well if she was going to end everything in the morning. 

"Why are you here?"

There it was, her first English in however long she had been out there, and her first words in months. They came out cracked and raw and they were barely heard over the wind. 

She watched confusion grow on Lexa's face but turned her gaze quickly to Finn, who had stood up, clapping slowly and sneering, "Well, look at that. The Princess is talking again."

Clarke growled and yelled, "Shof op!", over the sound of the storm. 

He laughed, coming and crouching in front of her, causing her to flinch back against the wall. She grunted as the stone pressed harshly against her wounded back. 

"You killed me Clarke, but that wasn't the plan."

He leaned down, his cold lips ghosting against her ear, his voice was anything but soft, "You weren't supposed to kill me. The knife was meant for her." 

He stood, pointing to Lexa. Clarke ground out the thing she had been telling herself to make it stop hurting, "I didn't have a choice." 

Finn screamed, slamming his into the wall beside her head. 

His voice was filled with rage when he yelled, "WE ALL HAVE A CHOICE!" 

Clarke shook her head, not wanting to believe him. If she did, that made her the bad guy. Made her the monster in the story.

Finn's voice lowered again, his tone that of a mad man when his trembling finger pointed at Clarke's chest, "My death? That's on you, Princess." 

Clarke's lip trembled, "I'm sorry." 

He laughed, walking out of the cave, "Sorry doesn't cut it, Princess."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa was extremely worried as she watched the scene play out in front of her. She had let Clarke go when she struggled free, thinking her episode was over. But as she watched Clarke flinch and cry out in reaction to a conversation she was having with someone who wasn't there, she realized how serious this was and knew she had to get Clarke out of there as soon as she was able.

For now, all Lexa could do was sit and listen as a broken girl fought with her inner demons. 

Lexa had never heard Clarke sound as helpless as when she whispered, "I'm sorry." to someone that was gone.

Eventually, Clarke's haunted gaze stayed fixed on the ground and she spoke again. 

Lexa could tell it pained Clarke to speak and she wondered when the last time she had used her voice had been, "Why are you here?"

"What do you mean Clarke? I'm here to help you." 

Lexa didn't miss the way Clarke flinched at the sound of her own name. She realized the skai girl might be more comfortable speaking in Lexa's native tongue. 

"Wanheda. Ai laik hir sis yu au." Clarke's head snapped up and she laughed a cold and bitter laugh. 

"Ai nou gaf in yu sis. Ai gaf gonthru klin."

Lexa's heart stopped. Was she going to kill herself? Lexa shook her head, she refused to let that happen and she thanked the gods that she had gotten to her love when she had. 

Clarke continued, switching back to English and pulling Lexa from her thoughts, "In the morning. After you disappear back into my head." 

Her voice cracked, "I'll finally have peace."

Lexa crossed the small space and sat cross-legged in front of the distressed girl, taking Clarke's hands into her own, determined to get through to her. 

"What if I did not go away? What if I was real, Clarke?"

Clarke shook her head, tears falling once again, "You're not. I know you're not." 

She smiled up at Lexa, "But you look like she does. Your eyes are beautiful and green and soft like hers." 

Her smile faded, "But I've seen you before, and you're never real."

Lexa dropped her hands and stood, extending a hand down, an idea striking her, "Come. I would like to show you something." 

Clarke stood with Lexa's help and she led them to the cave entrance. Lexa clasped Clarke's hand tightly and she stepped out into the slowing rain, pulling Clarke behind her. 

Lexa stopped beside her horse. 

"Clarke," she asked softly, "can you feel the rain against your skin?" 

She nodded. 

"Is it real?" 

Clarke's whole body trembled and her eyes were frozen wide, but she nodded. 

"Can you feel the wind?" 

Nod. 

"Is it real?" 

Nod.

Lexa took Clarke's hand and ran it along the mane and side of her horse. 

"Can you feel my horse underneath your fingertips?" 

Nod. 

"Is it real?" 

She watched Clarke swallow thickly and nod.

Carefully and achingly slowly, Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke's frigid torso. 

"Can you feel me in your arms?" 

Clarke took a long time to answer, but eventually, Lexa heard her quiet whisper on the wind, "Yes."

She stepped back and held Clarke's face in her hands, searching the blue eyes she had missed so dearly, "Am I real?" 

She watched the battle play in Clarke's eyes as she stuttered, "I-I-I don't... I-I can't..."

Lexa quickly undid the first few buckles of her armor and untied the top of her shirt, exposing the top of her chest binding. She took Clarke's quaking hands and placed them on her skin, directly over where her heart was beating, strong and alive and REAL.

"Can you feel my heartbeat in your hands?" 

Never breaking eye contact she asked again, "Clarke. Am. I. Real?" 

She watched the blonde's gaze seem to focus on her for the first time since she had found her, "L-Lexa?"

She caught Clarke as she collapsed into another round of sobs, clutching onto Lexa's shirt. When she went to pick her up she saw the gashes that covered the younger girls body. The rain had washed away most of her mud and Lexa noticed that Clarke's torso was covered front and back in angry, red slashes. Some were sloppily half cauterized and others bled still. She would deal with it later, Lexa decided. 

Lexa picked Clarke up and carried her back into the cave and she laid her down on the make-shift bed. 

She went to stand back up, but a cold hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, "No! No, please!" Clarke begged, "Please don't leave me!"

Lexa kissed her forehead, "I am just going to make a fire closer to here so that you can get warm. I'll be in your sight the whole time." She kneeled down and smoothed Clarke's hair back from her forehead. 

"I vow it to you, Klark kom Skaikru. I will never leave you again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shof op- shut up  
> Wanheda. Ai laik hir sis yu au- Wanheda. I am here to help you.  
> Ai nou gaf in yu sis. Ai gaf gonthru klin.- I don't need your help. I'm going to kill myself.


	9. My Body's Not Big Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realized that I haven't posted in a while, so here's two chapters in one day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

Lexa turned her full attention to her task, making a fire that would thaw Clarke's frozen body. The rain had almost stopped, and the thunder and lightning were long over. The only sounds were the occasional howl of the wind, the scuffle of her boots against the cave floor, and every now and then, Lexa would hear Clarke whimper. 

Each time she turned back to check on the blonde, she would find her face down in her furs, trying to stop the tears. Once the fire was crackling a few feet away from the bed, Lexa sat down next to Clarke's shaking form. 

Placing her hand on the girl's shoulder she spoke softly, "Clarke?" She waited for her favorite blue eyes to meet her own, "Can I pick you up to get you warm?" 

Clarke nodded and Lexa slipped one arm under her knees and one under her shoulders before standing. She sat cross-legged right next to the fire and held on tightly to Clarke, who was laying across her lap. After a few minutes of silence, Lexa felt cold fingertips meet her skin, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. 

She looked down at Clarke as she trailed her fingers all along Lexa's exposed skin, her collar bones, her neck, and her face. She let Clarke feel her beneath her hands in hopes it would bring some sort of comfort to her Skai Prisa.

Eventually, Lexa sighed, and took one of Clarke's hands in her own, kissing the back of it, "Are you getting warmer?" 

Clarke nodded, "Sha. Mochof, Leksa." 

Lexa's brows furrowed in confusion, "Have you been taught our language? Is that what you've been speaking this whole time?"

Clarke nodded again, "Ain lukot, em tich ai op."

"You have a friend out here? You were not alone this whole time?"

Clarke shook her head, "Ai don nou sin em in. Ai gon em we."

"Why did you leave her, Clarke?"

"Ai led em op." Clarke said, shamefully.

"What did you do to her?" Lexa asked as she set Clarke on the ground and stood, going over to fetch Clarke's shirt, a needle and thread, and a knife.

Clarke voice was bitter and laced with despair, something Lexa had never heard from her before. "I wanted to feel something other than guilt and numbness. I knew she loved me, so I slept with her. But, I did not love her. I left her because my actions hurt her, and had I stayed or gone back, I would have only continued to do so."

Lexa felt tears building behind her eyes, Clarke thought so little of herself. Clarke was sitting sideways by the fire so Lexa was able to kneel down in front of her. 

"Will you let me heal your wounds?" 

Clarke nodded before standing. Lexa was confused until Clarke sat back down, a bowl of water and a rag in her hands, pushing them towards Lexa.

"Thank you, Clarke." 

Lexa smiled but received no answer from the blonde. 

Lexa was disappointed, looks like she was done talking, though she was probably straining, seeing as she hadn't spoken that much in months. Lexa decided to simply hum a haunting tune as she washed the rest of the mud from Clarke's upper body, it was one Anya used to sing to her if she woke from nightmares.

She noticed Clarke's eyelids falling and motioned for her to pull her knees to her chest and rest her forehead on them, to try and sleep some, she would work on her back first. Clarke did just that and Lexa moved behind her, wiping the last of the mud from her body and setting to bowl aside.

She gasped at the marks on Clarke's body. She had tried to cauterize two of the three gashes on her shoulder. They ran from below her neck in the center of her upper back to just below her left shoulder. There were four more, only one attempted to be fixed, from the middle of her lower back all the way down to her right hip.

Lexa decided it was best to re-cauterize the one's Clarke had done, and do it properly this time. She would then do that with any of the more shallow gashes, but the really deep ones, she decided, would heal better if they were stitched.

She set to work, continuing to hum to keep Clarke asleep, hoping it would ease some of the pain she was about to be subjected to. If Clarke ever woke up during the process, she made no distinction. Lexa picked up her fragile form and laid her down on the bed so she could quickly heal her stomach. There were three angry gashes across Clarke's rib cage on the right side. She could tell Clarke was in pain, she hadn't cauterized them properly, and she had actually just made it worse for herself.

She finished them pretty quickly and was standing up when she felt Clarke's hand wrap around her wrist, "Lexa?" 

She kneeled down, "Hey, I'm here. Were you awake for all of that?" 

Clarke nodded, "I wanted to feel it." 

Lexa sighed, "You shouldn't keep torturing yourself, I won't let you do this to yourself." 

Clarke whispered a weak, "Sorry." 

Lexa smiled softly, "It's okay."

Clarke opened her eyes and fixed Lexa in her gaze, "Can I ask you to do something for me?" 

Lexa nodded, "Anything." 

Clarke seemed to consider her words very carefully, "Would you be willing to give me kill marks?" 

Lexa didn't need to consider this, it was a tradition for warriors and Clarke was no exception, "If that is what you wish."

Clarke nodded, "It is."

Clarke stood and walked over to the fire, Lexa followed, "On your back?" 

Clarke nodded. Lexa placed her dagger back in the fire, waiting for it to glow again. "How many do you need, Clarke?" 

"Seven that I can name, but..." 

Lexa placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, "But what? What's wrong, Clarke?" 

"My body's not big enough." 

She could hear the tears in Clarke's voice, and she kissed the side of her head, "Okay. It's okay. I'll fix it."

Lexa had hoped her design choice would help Clarke's back remain beautiful, and indeed, the gashes and kill marks would heal to create a painting on skin. When she had finished the last of ten marks, she ran a cool rag over them, attempting to sooth the tender skin. Lexa slipped Clarke's shirt back over the blonde's head and turned her away from the fire.

She wiped the tears from Clarke's cheeks, their trails glowing in the firelight. Without saying a word, she took Clarke's hand and pulled her over to the bed. Lexa laid down on her side and wrapped her arms around Clarke's waist, holding her close. 

She ran her fingers through sunlight hair and whispered, "It's alright. I'm here and you're safe. It's over now."

Clarke looked up from where she had been hiding in the side of Lexa's neck. "Where do I go from here?" 

She looked at Lexa with that lost, broken expression and Lexa thanked the gods that she had the answer. 

"With me. Come to Polis and stay by my side. As my equal in all ways." 

Innocently, Clarke voiced something that had been swirling around in her head. "I should hate you."

Lexa gazed down at the beautiful girl in her arms and, though afraid of the answer, found herself asking softly, "Do you?" 

Clarke's blue eyes kept Lexa's green ones in her gaze as if searching for something. She shook her head, "No." 

Lexa smiled and asked again, "Come and live in Polis with me, Clarke." 

She nodded, "Okay."

Lexa grinned widely and noticed Clarke smile for the first time since she had seen her. Lexa leaned down and kissed Clarke's forehead. 

"Rest now, Klark. Dream sweetly." 

Clarke nuzzled back into Lexa's neck as the brunette pulled the furs tightly around them. 

"Reshop, Leksa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ain lukot, em tich ai op- My friend, she taught me.  
> Ai don nou sin em in. Ai gon em we- I have not seen her. I left her.  
> Ai led em op- I hurt her.


	10. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

Lexa woke abruptly as screams filled her ears. Her instincts and training kicked in and she quickly scanned her surroundings, checking if anything was a threat to her. A threat to Clarke. It took her a moment to realize that the noise was coming directly from the blonde in her arms. 

She looked down to find Clarke with her eyes squeezed shut, her nails digging into the furs as she clawed at them, and a fine layer of sweat covering her body. Every few minutes, Clarke's screams would fill the cave and echo off of the walls, the clear torture in her tone making Lexa flinch.

Lexa tried desperately to wake Clarke, she tried everything she could think of to rouse her, but nothing seemed to work. With a resigned sigh, Lexa realized that this was something Clarke was going to have to get through by herself. Not wanting to sir and listen to her pained cried, Lexa stood and made her way outside. 

She fed her horse and collected firewood, as well as some of the berried that were nearby. She sat outside the cave and watched the sun begin to rise, finally allowing herself to release a few tears for the woman she loved.

She had expected to find her somewhat lost, she had even expected to find her half insane. But Lexa had never imagined finding Clarke so broken. 

The light in her favorite pair of blue eyes was now dull. And one of Lexa's favorite sounds, Clarke's laughter, was nowhere to be heard. 

She had made a vow to Clarke, never to leave her again. It was that morning in the early sunlight, sitting on the damp ground outside of a small cave, and listening to the screams of Clarke as she fought her inner demons, that Lexa made a vow to herself. 

"I will fix her."

Once she was back in the cave, Lexa made a quick fire. She placed the rest of the meat she had brought over the flames to cook and placed the berried she had picked in a small wooden bowl. Clarke's screams had quieted to pained whimpers and Lexa decided to try once again to wake her.

"Clarke," she spoke gently, kneeling and shaking the blonde slightly, "Clarke, you're having a nightmare. Clarke, please. Wake up."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke shot upright, tears running down her face. She felt someone grab her wrists, and she pulled against their grip, flailing desperately to get away. 

"Hey. Hey, it's me. Clarke. It's me." 

Her vision cleared as her eyes adjusted to the faint morning light, and Clarke finally recognized the person in front of her. 

"Lexa." She sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand. 

Clarke was pulled into Lexa's embrace, the brunette's arms encircling Clarke's shaking form. 

There was a hand on her waist and one in her hair, "Shh. It's alright. I've got you, Clarke. You're okay."

Clarke managed to calm herself down quickly, and continued to cling to Lexa even after her tears had dried. She hadn't realized how starved of human contact she was until she was held tightly in Lexa's arms. Of course, Clarke's stomach decided it was the perfect time to release a cry of hunger. She ignored it, it was a pain she had gotten used to.

Lexa chuckled and stood, offering Clarke her hand. 

"I made food. Come." 

They sat side by side near the fire and Lexa placed a plate on Clarke's lap. She looked up at Lexa with wide eyes, it was the most food Clarke had seen in weeks. 

Lexa nodded, "It's yours."

They began to eat in silence, but Lexa grew too curious. 

"Clarke?" 

The blonde jumped and her eyes quickly flashed around the cave before finally settling on Lexa. She watched Clarke visibly relax when she realized it was only her. 

She decided not to comment, instead asking, "When was the last time you ate something?" 

Clarke shrugged. 

"Drank anything?" 

She shrugged again.

Lexa moved closer until their knees were touching. "Are you comfortable using your voice and talking to me?" 

Clarke nodded, unsure which language to use. 

Watching her eyebrows furrow, Lexa added, "You can answer in any way you wish. But I am curious." 

Clarke nodded again, wincing at how her voice cracked when she spoke, "Okay."

Lexa stood, returning with a cup of water, which Clarke drank greedily. Placing the empty cup by her feet and feeling the cool relief of water in her dry throat she spoke again, her voice clearer this time. 

"Thanks." 

Lexa nodded and decided the best order to ask her questions.

"Do you know how long you've been out here?"

"Not really. I never went back to camp after Mount Weather. So, my guess is a few months." 

"Seven."

"What?"

Lexa sighed, "You've been gone seven months, Clarke."

Clarke nodded, "Oh. Okay." She wasn't sure quite how to react.

"Do you know where you are? Did you come to Azgeda on purpose, Clarke?"

"I didn't want to be found." Clarke snapped.

Lexa ignored her tone and continued, "I take it the red hair helped with that as well. And wearing our clothes and speaking our language."

Though it wasn't a question, Clarke nodded.

Lexa was getting frustrated. "Did you at least bring a weapon to protect yourself? Your gun?"

"I buried it. I won't touch another one. Not again."

Lexa's expression softened, her again dissipating. She went to reach out, but dropped her hand when Clarke flinched at her too quick movement. 

"You don't have to."

They sat in silence and Lexa finished eating, placing her plate beside her. 

Clarke sighed, she had to ask, "Did they look for me?"

"Yes. A few even came storming into TonDC thinking you had been kidnapped. Indra came to Polis and informed me. It is how I found out about you being gone. And here I am."

Pushing her empty plate aside, Clarke fully turned to Lexa. 

"Kidnapped? Was Bellamy with them?"

"I believe so. Why?"

Clarke was confused. "Because I told him I was leaving. He was with me when I left."

Lexa held Clarke's gaze. "Sometimes we refuse to acknowledge the truth because it is too painful."

Clarke didn't respond. Lexa knew she was too caught up in her own thoughts. Carefully, she stretched out her hand and pulled Clarke's hand into her lap. 

"I saw what you did at the mountain. I want to thank you for respecting my fallen warriors." 

"They deserved the proper ceremony. They all did." 

They sat in silence for a while before Clarke stood and began packing all of her materials into her bag in preparation for travel. Lexa took the time to put out the fire. 

Lexa waited for Clarke at the mouth of the cave. When she heard light footsteps coming up behind her she spoke, "Do you know what I think, Clarke? I think that you isolating yourself out here... it wasn't about you not wanting to be found. It was about you not believing you were worth being found."

Turning to Clarke, Lexa watched as despair and pain flashed across her features. Clarke's tear filled eyes met her steady ones and Lexa saw the ghost of her favorite smile, "But you came anyways." 

Intertwining their fingers, Lexa stepped forward, "Because I know you're worthy of being found. Let's go home, Clarke." 

Clarke voice broke with the weight of her guilt, "I don't know if I have a home anymore, Lexa."

Engulfing Clarke in a hug,, Lexa kissed the top of her head. "You will always have a home with me, Clarke. Please," she asked, stepping back and holding out her hand, "let me take you there." 

Clarke bit her lip and seemed to think very hard for a few moments.

But eventually, she nodded and accepted Lexa's hand. Lexa led Clarke to her horse with a soft smile on her face. 

Clarke was here. 

Clarke was safe. 

And Clarke was coming home.


	11. Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cute little fluffy stuff on horses and self reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

Clarke was settled on the horse in front of Lexa, at Lexa's insistence. The brunette knew how tired Clarke had to be, and wanted her safe if she fell asleep on the journey. She also selfishly wanted to keep the blonde in her arms, dreading that she might just disappear again.

The pair spoke lightly all morning as they traveled back to the outer edges of Azgeda. Sometimes it took a while for Clarke to respond, but Lexa knew to be patient because she was still adjusting to using her voice again.

Another reason Lexa wanted Clarke in front of her, was so that she could observe the blonde. She had changed so much in the past months. Lexa watched as Clarke's head turned every few minutes as she scanned their surroundings. She noticed how Clarke's body remained stiff and straight, her posture rigid and always poised to attack at any moment.

Lexa sighed, she may be bringing Clarke back to a civilized place, but it would be a long time before the blonde would realize she was no longer alone in the woods and that she no longer had to fight to survive every second. 

Hoping not to dwell too long on those dark thoughts, she asked Clarke to tell her about her favorite memories from the last seven months, praying to the gods that her memories were not all filled with pain and suffering.

"Well," Clarke began, "for a while, especially in the beginning, there wasn't really anything to be happy about. I was filled with so much guilt and just this crippling pain would never go away. I forgot what happiness felt like." 

She shook her head, as if shaking the thoughts away. 

"Then, I found Niylah. Or rather, she found me, attacked me, and threatened to kill me." 

Lexa chuckled quietly, not wanting to interrupt. She really had missed Clarke's voice.

"Anyways, spending time with her brought things up for a while, at least enough that everything was bearable." 

Clarke paused. 

"When I left her, things got really bad again...I'll spare you all the details...but there were a few nights that I barely managed to survive, and a few I probably shouldn't have." 

She was quiet for a while, but Lexa knew better than to pry. Clarke would open up in time. Lexa thought she was done speaking, but then the blonde continued, 

"So I guess, if you were to ask me about the good times, I would say the mornings." 

Clarke felt her stoic mask falling out of place as she was swept up in memories, "Sitting outside when it was still cold from the night and watching the sun come over the horizon. The dark sky exploding into color. I watched the sun rise almost every day out here." 

Wanting to offer comfort and keep her talking, Lexa gently kissed the top of Clarke's head before asking, "Why the sunrise?" 

Clarke blinked a few times to clear her vision. She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat as she was bombarded with the thought of each sunrise she had endured. 

Finally able to form words as her eyes darted around the forest she spoke, "Because it reminded me that-"

Just as quickly as it had dropped, Clarke slammed her mask back into place. 

She sat up even straighter and more rigid than before, refusing to relax back against Lexa as she had started to do, even though her broken body groaned and screamed in protest.

Confused as to the sudden change in the girl in front of her, Lexa's eyes roamed the area before they settled on the make-shift camp of her two warriors. They stood, seeing her horse approaching and bowed their heads. 

"Heda." 

Seeing Clarke, the woman nodded in respect while the man sneered, "Wanheda." 

Lexa growled. "En pleni."

Clarke dismounted before Lexa could even think to offer her help, though she knew it would not have been accepted anyways. Sighing, Lexa dismounted quickly, hoping the little progress she had just made with Clarke wasn't gone. 

"Prepare quickly for our journey back to Polis. We leave here in fifteen minutes." 

Walking over to where Clarke was, she spoke quietly, staring forward, "If you are hungry-" 

"I'm not." Clarke snapped. 

Lexa continued evenly, "That is a lie. But, fine. We will reach Polis before the moon is high." 

Turning to meet a cold blue gaze she continued, her voice still gentle, "You have nothing to fear among my people. You are safe here, Clarke. And you will be safe in Polis." The younger girl's reply made Lexa's heart ache, though it was spoken with the same cold tone that shone in her eyes. 

"I am the Commander of Death. I'm not safe anywhere."

Once everything was packed and ready for travel, Lexa turned to Clarke prepared to help her back onto her horse. But, she found Clarke already on the horse of the man she had killed, ready to ride bareback. With somewhat of a dumbfounded expression she met her favorite blue gaze. Clarke simply winked with that ghost of a smile that made Lexa's heart soar. Not wanting to lost this playful side, Lexa smirked and turned to her two warriors. 

"What happened with the saddle?" 

It was the woman who answered, "It is packed. We took it off to relieve the horse of its weight." Turning to Clarke she continued, "Wanheda. If you wish, I could-" 

"Nou. En's ku." 

She nodded, "Very well."

Lexa mounted her horse and after double checking they had everything, the group set out for Polis. The two warriors rode in front and Lexa was right behind them. Clarke, however, chose to ride slightly behind the group. They were traveling at a simple walking pace and Clarke took the time to observe the place she had been living.

The air was cool, but Clarke knew the nights could be frigid. The trees mostly had needles instead of leaved and they were a dark green instead of the medium hue she had first known on Earth. She thought about her little cave on top of the hill. 

It was a dark and lonely place, but it had come to be her home. Paintings made with mud and ash covered its walls, and her hands itched to create the images again before they were gone from her mind.

Now that she was leaving, Clarke realized that she once again had no home. 

No Ark or cell of tent or cave to call her own. 

More importantly, she realized she didn't know who she was now. 

Skaikru? 

No. She had left, walked away. The metal walls of the Ark had kept her prisoner, it was not her place to be among those people. 

Trikru? 

She wanted to laugh. No, definitely not. 

Out in the woods, she had only been Wanheda. The Commander of Death. 

But she was leaving that now too, so was she really still who she had been. 

Not really. 

Clarke sighed rather loudly, defeated. 

Looks like she just had to be Clarke now. The problem was, she didn't know who Clarke was.

She was pulled from her inner ramblings when a boot touched hers. She hadn't noticed Lexa fall back next to her. 

"Klark. Yu ste ogud?" 

Clarke nodded, "Sha. Ai laik ogud." 

Curious, Lexa asked, "Where did you learn to ride?" 

"Niylah tich ai op." 

Lexa nodded and the two women lapsed into silence for a few minutes before Clarke broke it. 

"If I may ask, Lexa. Would we be able to travel faster? I haven't ridden in a while and I must admit I miss the feeling."

Lexa smiled, "If you think you can keep up?" 

Playful Clarke was back and Lexa could see the determination settle over her features. 

"Try me." 

Smirking, Lexa whistled and kicked the sides of her horse, urging him into a gallop. She was surprised to find that Clarke easily kept up with her rapid pace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nou. En's ku. -No. It's fine.  
> Yu ste ogud?- Are you alright?  
> Sha. Ai laik ogud. - Yes. I'm okay.  
> Niylah tich ai op. -Niylah taught me.


	12. I Can't Go Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

They reached the outskirts on Polis sooner than expected because of their faster pace, the setting sun creating a breathtaking backdrop to the city. Lexa slowed her horse to a walk as the gates came into view. She found herself smiling, she was home. And Clarke, Clarke was by her side.

"Heda!" A guard shouted. "Heda is back! Open the gates!" 

Lexa dismounted and walked through the gates, relief filling her lungs. She turned to Clarke, ready to give her a tour with the remaining sunlight, but her smile fell to panic when the blonde was not next to her.

It took Lexa a few moments to locate her, but she let out a huge breath, unaware that she had been holding it when she finally found her. Clarke was standing about ten feet from the gates, staring at the city with wide, terror filled eyes. Recognizing that look from some of Clarke's nightmares, Lexa knew she had to get through to her. 

Cautiously, Lexa began trying to close the distance between them, holding her hands up in front of her and calling softly, "Clarke. You're okay. It's safe here."

She froze when Clarke started shaking her head and taking steps back towards the trees, a glazed look in her eyes. Lexa turned to her warriors and the guards watching them. 

"Leave us." She ordered. 

When they made no move to give them space she growled lowly, "Do not make Heda repeat herself."

When she was finally alone with Clarke, Lexa softened her features again. 

"Clarke." 

The blonde flinched at the sound of her name and Lexa wanted to cry. Trying again she took a step closer, satisfied when Clarke stayed in place. 

"Clarke. It's just me. It's Lexa." 

She continued to take small steps toward the shaking girl in slow progression so she didn't startle her.

When she was close enough, Lexa reached out slowly and pulled Clarke into her. 

Clarke trembled in her arms and Lexa only held her tighter and whispered, "Shh. It's alright. I'm right here, Clarke."

Lexa waited until her tremors had stopped before holding Clarke at arm's length and continuing to speak calmly.

"We made it to Polis, Clarke. Let me get you inside. Let's go inside and all this will be over." 

Clarke started to panic again and Lexa held Clarke's face in her hands when she saw tears forming in her eyes, cooing, "Shh. Breathe. Breathe with me, Clarke." 

She took one of Clarke's hands and held it over her chest, taking long, deep breaths.

Clarke clenched her eyes shut trying to focus on breathing and hoping that getting rid of some of the sensory input to her brain would help. Slowly, she regained some of her composure and opened her eyes again. Blue orbs met green ones full of concern. 

Clarke nodded, "I'm okay."

Lexa didn't dare let her go. Instead, she intertwined their fingers and took a few steps towards the gates. When Clarke took the steps slowly after her, Lexa took another few and waited patiently for Clarke to walk up to her. It worked for a few feet, but once they were about three feet from the gates and Clarke could see the bustle of the city inside, she froze.

Lexa looked back, "Clarke?" 

Feeling the panic coming back she tried to speak, only managing to squeak out, "I-I can't." 

Lexa walked back to where Clarke was and asked, "What can't you do? Clarke, what's wrong." 

But Clarke didn't know how to answer that question. All she knew was she couldn't go through with this. "I-I can't go in-inside."

It was with those words that Lexa finally understood what was going on in Clarke's head. Clarke hadn't spoken in months, which meant that she hadn't had interaction with another person in at least as long. Lexa was angry with herself. 

How could she have expected Clarke to just walk right into a giant city full of people and fit right in? 

Clarke had to be terrified. Going from a dark cave in the middle of the woods to a lively city full of strangers, not to mention Clarke's PTSD, it's no wonder she was reacting the way she is.

Lexa dropped Clarke's hand and wiped the tears from her cheeks with her thumbs, "Then you don't have to." 

Clarke looked up, surprised, "What?" 

Lexa smiled sweetly, "I am sorry, Clarke. I did not remember how big of a change this will be for you. You do not have to enter the city until you are ready to." 

Clarke nodded after a few minutes, "Thank you."

Lexa helped Clarke set up a small shelter to sleep in for the night. She sent for food to be brought to them and watched as Clarke made her own fire, surprised at how efficient she was, especially considering the wet ground and wood. They sat on the ground together and shared a meal, not saying much.

As the first few stars began to appear in the sky Lexa sighed. She had to get inside the city for the night. But she really didn't want to leave Clarke alone again. Seeing the conflict passing over her features, Clarke squeezed Lexa's hand, "You have to get inside, don't you?" 

She could see how torn Lexa was. "I could-" 

"No." Clarke interrupted. "Go inside the city. Sleep in a bed. Be warm. I'll be fine out here." 

Lexa stood and Clarke stood with her. "Are you sure?" 

Clarke nodded, "What's one more night in the woods, right?" She tried joking. 

Neither girl laughed.

Lexa sighed and ran her thumb along Clarke's cheek before kissing her forehead. "Reshop, Klark. Sleep well." 

Clarke watched her retreat inside the walls surrounding the city with a heavy heart, "Reshop, Leksa."

Later that night, when the moon was high overhead, Clarke shot upright, yanked abruptly from her nightmares. She panicked glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Wanheda? Is everything alright?" 

Clarke flinched at the name, but slowing started to remember the events if the past few days. 

She turned to the woman guarding the gates and nodded, answering shakily, "Sha." 

The warrior nodded and said nothing more, turning back to focus on her task.

With a resigned sigh, Clarke stood and added a few more logs to her fire, giving up on the idea of sleeping anymore that night. As she sat by the roaring flames, the ground damp and cold beneath her and her knees drawn to her chest, she found herself staring longingly at the tower in the center of the city. 

Heda's tower.

Clarke wondered where in the building Lexa was. Probably somewhere near the top, she decided. Hopefully, Lexa was warm and resting well, Clarke thought as a breeze caused her to shiver and inch closer to the heat.

She sat there, lost in thoughts of the brunette with the piercing green eyes. She whispered her words like a broken prayer to the wind. 

"Thank you for saving me."

What Clarke didn't know, was that the Commander was not resting peacefully, but standing on the balcony of her room with a fur wrapped securely around her shoulders. Her mind was racing too quickly for sleep to come and when it did it was in short fitful bursts.

Lexa couldn't help but think of the blonde with the striking blue eyes, nestled right outside the city walls. Her blue eyes once full of passion and life were now only filled with pain, guilt, and hatred.

Lexa sighed, pulling the fur a little tighter around her body and stared at the small fire burning brightly against the darkness of night. Her heart yearned for the blonde to come into the city, where Lexa would be able to slowly start bringing the light back into her eyes.

Lexa wanted nothing more in that moment than to hold Clarke safely in her arms.

Little did the brunette know, Clarke wanted the exact same thing.


	13. I Never Meant to Turn You Into This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The 100 was created by Kass Morgan and adapted to TV by Jason Rothenberg. I do not own the characters or the world of The 100 except for those I create.

Lexa was awake and dressed by the time the sun began to rise. She was outside and strolling through the market as the first few golden ray broke the horizon. She traveled the twisting streets easily and made her way towards one shop in particular. 

She called out to the vendor as she neared, "Larkin!"

The young girl's head snapped from her book and she smiled widely, "Heda!" 

Larkin was only thirteen winters but lost her parents to hunger during a particularly hard winter the one before last. She had taken over their small farm and opened her own fruit stand to support herself. Lexa always made sure to buy from her and give her a few extra coins.

The redheaded teen stood from her stool and asked, "What will it be today, Leksa?" 

Lexa's eyes scanned the piles of fruit expertly, "It all looks wonderful, Larkin." 

She blushed, "Mochof, Heda. I have been very lucky lately."

Lexa nodded, "Two of those red apples, two peaches, and...a small basket of strawberries, please." 

"Of course, Heda."

Having been handed the fruit and placing it into a small basket she had bought, Lexa paid the young girl. When Larkin tried to give back the extra money, Lexa refused. 

"You work for this money, Young One. It is not charity. Keep what is yours." 

Larkin bowed her head, respectfully. "Mochof, Heda." 

Lexa smiled, "Pro." 

As Lexa turned to leave, Larkin called out, "I hope you and Wanheda enjoy the fruit!" 

Lexa smiled and blushed thinking of Clarke. "I'm sure we will! See you tomorrow, Larkin!"

Reaching the gate surrounding the outer edges of Polis, Lexa called over to the guard on duty. 

"Deirdre." 

The dark-haired woman came over to her, "Good morning, Leksa." 

Lexa nodded, "It is. How is she?" 

Deirdre sighed, "Sleeping. Finally." 

At Lexa's questioning gaze, she explained.

"She woke after only a few hours. Abruptly. I called out to let her know I was there, but we spoke no more after she assured me she was fine. She added more fuel to her fire and stayed awake after that. Staring at the flames and unmoving from what I could tell. Exhaustion took over about an hour or two ago."

Lexa sighed. "Alright. Thank you for keeping an eye on her for me. Someone should be here to relieve you soon." 

Deirdre nodded. "It was no problem, Heda. I simply wish to help her as much as I am able to. I wish I could have done more."

"As do I. Go on and rest well, Deirdre."

With that, she walked past the gates and over to Clarke's small camp. Flames licked at the edges of a few half-burnt logs, meaning they hadn't been added that long ago. Lexa sat down her basket and crouched in front of Clarke.

She looked uncomfortable, Lexa decided. 

Her knees were drawn to her chest, her arms are wrapped tightly around herself, and her forehead was resting on her knees. Lexa reached forward to move some hair from Clarke's face.

The next thing she knew she was on the ground with a knife pressing into her throat. 

She looked up with wide eyes and found a cold, calculating expanse of blue. Lexa pushed down her instincts to react and stayed very, very still. She swallowed against the cool blade, feeling it press against her pulse point.

"Clarke." She whispered. 

Something flickered in her favorite pair of blue eyes, but it was quickly taken over once again by an angry, detached haze. 

Again, Lexa tried to bring the blonde back to her, "Clarke." 

When no reaction came, she did something that she knew would break through, at least she hoped it would.

Lexa pushed herself up and into the knife, drawing a few drops of her midnight blood. She could feel Clarke gasp slightly and could feel the girl's hand start shaking. She opened her eyes and was met with tear filled blue. Lexa knew she didn't want to do this. It had simply become Clarke's instinct. Kill or be killed. 

Because of her.

"I'm sorry, Clarke." 

Lexa knew she was finally breaking through the blonde's walls, tears were streaming down Clarke's face and her grip on the knife was faltering. But Lexa wasn't done, she had carried her guilt for months, worrying about the fate of her strong and stubborn sky princess. 

"I never meant to turn you into this."

With a choked sob, Clarke flicked her wrist, sending the dagger into the dirt with a thud. Clarke stood from where she had been crouched over Lexa and staggered back a few steps, the reality of what she had almost done starting to sink in.

Lexa watched her movements carefully, thankful that she had sent the guard home early. She took a step towards the wild girl only when she had stopped moving back towards the trees. 

She reached out a hand, palm up, "Clarke?"

"I'm sorry." Clarke croaked, her body trembling from holding her sobs inside. 

Lexa took another small step forward, "I'm not angry, Clarke. It's okay." 

Clarke shook her head, "I'm so sorry. I-I just-" 

Lexa took one final step and pulled Clarke into her arms, "It's okay. I understand."

Clarke just shook her head back and forth, crying softly into Lexa's chest. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

Lexa held her tightly, "It's alright, Clarke. It's okay. Quiet now."

Clarke quieted a few minutes later and Lexa reluctantly released her. Guiding her gently, Lexa brought them back to the fire. 

"I brought breakfast. Something I think you will enjoy."

Once they were sitting, Lexa pulled out the contents if her basket and chuckled quietly at Clarke's awed expression. 

"Clarke? Did you have fruit on the Ark?"

Clarke shook her head. "We tried but it never really worked out. Not like this." She smiled, amazed as she held an apple in her hands. 

Lexa bit into her apple, and watched Clarke with a small smile, motioning for her to do the same, "Go on. Eat, Clarke."

She slowly sunk her teeth into the crisp skin surrounding the fruit. The cool, sweet juice filled her mouth and she moaned softly before she could stop herself. She closed her eyes, content to savor the new flavor. She continued chewing, biting off one piece after another, until the apple was gone. Then, she opened her eyes to see green already staring back.

Without a word, Lexa handed her another strange fruit. It was smaller than the apple and slightly fuzzy. Clarke look up at Lexa with wide eyes, but Lexa was already eating hers, and so Clarke did the same. 

It was juicier than the apple was, Clarke noted as some it ran down her chin. She heard Lexa laugh at her and she opened her eyes, tilting her head questioningly.

"You have some...never mind, I'll get it." 

Lexa leaned over and ran her thumb over Clarke's chin, wiping off the mess. She licked the juice from her finger and smiled at the blonde, who was watching her transfixed. She waited until the peach was gone before she reached into the basket to bring out the strawberries.

She handed one to Clarke and said, "You know how we didn't eat the middle of the apple and the peach?" 

Clarke nodded, still staring intently at the small berry in her hand. 

"Well, we don't eat the tops of these. And I have a bunch, so you can have as many as you like." 

Placing the basket between them, Lexa leaned back, using one hand to support herself and the other to eat some of the strawberries.

Clarke noticed that these were a deep scarlet, and had small seeds scattered over their surface. Lexa said not to eat the top and seeing as that was the part covered in the stem and leaves, she guessed that made sense.

These were sweet as well, and positively addicting. Before she knew it, the entire basket of berries between them was empty. Lexa giggled at the disappointed look on Clarke's face. 

"You know, Clarke. If you're ready to try going inside, I can show you where to get some more."

Clarke looked up at Lexa, eyes flickering over her shoulder to the walls of Polis and then back to Lexa. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She opened her eyes and nodded.

"I need to ask you something first." 

Lexa was slightly confused, but nodded, "Of course, Clarke. Anything." 

She watched Clarke's brow furrow and was surprised by the next thing that came out of her mouth. 

"Do you trust me?"

She spoke true, "Of course I do, Clarke." 

Clarke shook her head, "Why?" 

Lexa wasn't sure where this was going, "What do you mean?" 

"Why do you trust me? Lexa, I just tried to kill you. And not for the first time."

Moving to sit a little closer to the blonde, Lexa tucked her legs under and put a comforting hand on Clarke's shoulder. 

"I knew you wouldn't do it." 

Clarke shook her head again and Lexa could hear the war in her voice, the frustration. "How? How could you possibly know that? I didn't even know that."

Lexa stood and moved until she was crouching in front of Clarke. She held Clarke's face in her hands and made sure to keep Clarke's gaze when she told her, "I know you." 

When tears appeared on Clarke's cheeks again, Lexa wiped them away with the gentle pads of her thumbs.

"Please, Clarke. Come inside with me."

"Okay."


	14. Can I Stay With You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG

Lexa made sure to keep to the outskirts of the city, knowing Clarke would not react well to the busy marketplace. She brought Clarke to the back of Larkin's stall, raising her hand to knock on the wood.

Larking rushed around to them but froze when she saw Clarke. The blonde was standing slightly behind Lexa, hiding. She had a firm grip on her hand and squeezed it lightly to tell Clarke that Larkin was a friend.

"I know I usually only stop by once, but Wanheda wanted some more breakfast, so I thought I would show her to get the best."

"Chof, Heda." The young girl replied, gazing curiously at the one they called Wanheda. The girl seemed frightened and Larkin took a small step forward.

"Ai laik Larkin, Wanheda. What would you like?"

"Strawberries, please," was the timid response.

Larkin watched Lexa lead the blonde away once they had another basket of strawberries. She liked the way Lexa interacted with her. She liked Wanheda.

Clarke was amazed as Lexa led her through the twisting hallways of the Polis tower. She could hear the sounds of meetings being carried out as they passed some of the rooms.

All the guards that they passed bowed for Lexa, and surprisingly, for Clarke as well. Eventually, Lexa stopped in front of a large pair of double doors.

"This is your room. I've had everything prepared for you. My room is-"

"Can I stay with you?" Clarke interrupted in a whisper.

Lexa was shocked, and her pause must have scared Clarke because before she could react, the blonde was rambling.

"I'm sorry. Nevermind, it was a stupid question. Of course, I can't, you're Heda. And I'm just-"

"Yes."

"What? Clarke looked up surprised."

"Of course you can stay with me, Clarke." Lexa smiled softly, "I would love for you to stay with me."

Clarke followed quietly behind Lexa as they passed the guards and entered her chambers. The room was warm, that's the first thing Clarke noticed. She was warm for the first time in months. One side of the room was filled with a few tables and chairs, a couch and a wardrobe, and soft fur rugs. The other side was mainly Lexa's bed. The headboard was made from several intricately carved pieces and the bed itself was covered in some of the finest furs Clarke had ever seen.

"Wow." She breathed out, overwhelmed by it all.

Lexa looked back over her shoulder at Clarke, seeing that she had yet to move further into the room.

"Is everything alright?" She asked.

The blonde simply nodded in response.

"I know it must be overwhelming. Especially after going so long with so little. That being said, anything you may want, anything at all, you need only ask for it."

"Thank you," Clarke whispered.

"Welcome home, Klark." Lexa smiled softly.

Lexa decided to get some of her daily work done. She sat at one of the two large meeting tables and pulled the stack of parchment documents in front of her. As she scanned each one and added her input, she kept an eye on Clarke. The younger girl was slowly walking through the room, running her fingertips along the walls as she went. Lexa watched as she did this several times, hearing the occasional whisper pierce the silence as Clarke spoke to herself.

After she watched her begin her sixth lap of the perimeter, Lexa spoke up.

"Clarke?"

The blonde's wide eyes snapped to her and she paused her relentless pacing.

"Is something making you uneasy?"

Lexa had observed similar patterns of behavior in animals that had been trapped in cages.

"Moba, Heda. I am not used to being within four walls."

Lexa stood and crossed to where the girl was. She raised a hand to caress the blonde's cheek.

"You may tell me anytime if you are uncomfortable. Your needs are my own, Clarke."

Clarke blushed and nodded. Lexa opened the balcony doors and the curtains flourished in the breeze.

"There," she smiled and teased, "much more like a cave now."

She was satisfied as Clarke turned an even darker shade of red. She went back to her work as Clarke stood on the balcony, gaze cast far somewhere in the distance. Their silence wasn't interrupted again until there was a knock on the door.

"Sha? Enter." Lexa called.

Indra entered the room. She saw Clarke's figure on the balcony and eyes her back warily before addressing Lexa.

"Heda. The meeting you called will be beginning soon."

Lexa nodded, "Mochof, Indra."

The general left the room and Lexa turned to Clarke, the blonde's silhouette glowing brilliantly against the midday sun. She took a few steps onto the balcony and laid a gentle hand on Clarke's shoulder.

"Will you be alright while I'm gone?"

"Why did you call a meeting?"

"The Ambassadors need to be updated on the state of the mountain. I will also need to inform them that you are in Polis and are under my protection. Any threat against you is a threat against me."

Lexa knew Clarke was trying to avoid her original question, but she needed to know the answer, so she asked again, "Clarke. Will you be alright while I'm gone?"

Clarke forced a small smile on her face, but couldn't look Lexa in the eyes as she answered, "Of course. Go be Commander, I'll be fine here."

It had been about twenty minutes or so since Lexa had left for the meeting and Clarke was getting restless. She'd gone back to pacing around the room, listening to the guards speaking outside the doors. There was no way she would be about to get past them.

She sighed frustratedly and then decided, caution be damned.

She turned on her heel and strode back out onto the balcony. She leaned over the small wall and peered downwards. She could see another small balcony jutting out of the tower a few stories down. She also noticed that from that point there was a few small ridges and misplaced stones that she could use to help her rappel the rest of the way.

She glanced down at her clothes, they were the same ones she'd been wearing since her last visit with Niylah. They were torn and covered in mud and blood. She would be recognized in no time if she wore them.

She sighed again and quickly stripped, leaving her old clothes wherever they fell. She tore through Lexa's wardrobe and found a comfortable looking pair of black pants and a tan shirt. She pulled them on and though they were a little tight, they fit pretty well. She pulled her own boots back on and went back to the edge of the balcony.

She took a deep breath, calming herself and psyching herself up for what she was about to attempt.

"Okay, Clarke." She whispered, looking down towards her target, "All you have to do is angle your jump right and you'll drop right down."

She swung her legs over the edge and dropped down, hanging by her fingertips. She looked down past her feet and judged the angle before swinging her feet just so and letting go of the wall.

Clarke felt like she was flying, though in the back of her mind she knew she was actually falling. When she landed harshly, there was a twinge of pain in her ankle and a jolt to her hip, but other than that, she was fine.

She smiled widely and laughed for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Sneaking around the streets of Polis wasn't too complicated for Clarke. She just had to avoid Lexa's guards and it's not like were actively looking for her. She walked down the busy market streets, taking in what the different vendors were selling, and taking a mental note as to where everything was located. She wanted to be able to pull up a mental map if need be.

She wandered for a few hours, no destination in mind, enjoying the tranquility of the city and its people. As she turned another corner, she froze. Stretched out in front of her, were at least a dozen different spaces for warriors and guards to train and learn new skills. She smiled widely as she saw an open one and walked confidently to a rack of staffs on the side of the grounds.

She could feel eyes on her, but she knew they were merely curious as opposed to malicious. She entered the empty ring and quickly rolled her neck and shoulders before settling into a familiar fighting stance.

She twirled the staff separately in each of her hands to get acquainted with its weight before shifting forward and beginning the series of attacks she’d taught herself. She closed her eyes as she did this, embracing the familiar stretch of her muscles, she could almost pretend she was still back at her cave.

Her peaceful state of mind was suddenly broken as a sharp, “Clarke Abigail Griffin!” was thrown in her direction. She froze, her back automatically straightening and her chin rising as her body steeled in response to the abrupt shift of mindset.

She heard footsteps coming quickly closer and all she could do was sigh.

“Shit.”


	15. I Need You, I Want You, I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short one

Clarke turned around slowly, that knowledge that she was totally unprepared for what was about to occur settling into the pit on her stomach. The first thing she felt was a sharp sting against her cheek before she was pulled into a crushing embrace.

"Don't you ever do that again!"

Clarke stood frozen in shock, she was so out of practice with social interaction that her mind was reeling with how to respond.

"...hi?" was what eventually came out.

Abby Griffin didn't notice though, her rage finally cresting over at seeing her daughter here in the capital, training as if nothing was wrong.

"I wake up in the med bay only to be notified that my daughter is gone! And to think that you've been here! The whole time! And-"

Clarke could feel everyone's eyes on her, making her tense up even further. As her mother continued to yell at her for leaving, Clarke could feel panic rising in her chest. She couldn't take it. She had to escape.

She spun quickly but before she could take two steps, there were arms around her. Lexa, was all her mind could register. Lexa's hands were on her hips, supplying enough pressure to keep her in place while still being gentle. Clarke tucked her head into Lexa's neck as she began to address her mother.

"Chancellor Griffin. What seems to be the problem?"

"This isn't your concern, Commander. This is between me and my daughter."

Lexa raised her chin, "This is my concern, Chancellor. Wanheda is here as my guest and whoever makes her uncomfortable, whether they are her mother or not, is mine to deal with."

Abby huffed and walked away and Lexa pulled Clarke back a little, putting her hands on her face so their eyes could meet.

"She's furious with me." Clarke pouted, sounding like she was on the edge of tears.

"She was worried about you for months, Clarke. She isn't angry, simply overwhelmed." Lexa soothed, a hand running through sunshine hair, "As was I at first. But you're here now. And that is what matters. She'll calm down soon." Lexa smiled, softly.

Clarke nodded and nuzzled back into Lexa's arms with a small noise.

 

 

Once they were alone back in Lexa's chambers with the guards posted back outside in the hall, Lexa relaxed onto one of the couches, letting the rigidity of the commander fall away. After a few seconds, she noticed that Clarke hadn't followed her. She looked up to find the blonde fidgeting nervously by the door. She knew the girl had something on her mind.

"Words, Klark." She gently ordered.

Clarke cleared her throat and spoke sheepishly, still looking at the floor, "I'm sorry I left your room earlier. And didn't leave a note."

"Ah yes, that. I am curious how you managed that, seeing as my guards had no idea how'd you'd gone."

Clarke blushed and hid her face behind her hair. "I went over the balcony."

Lexa turned to find the setting sun peeking in through the billowing curtains, the doors left wide open. She laughed quietly, so quietly Clarke almost didn't hear her. She did, however, and the sound of Lexa laughing made her heart stir for the first time in months. It was overwhelming.

She took a small step forward, her hand raised, "Miya."

Lexa stood and closed the remaining distance between them in a few slow steps. She gently lifted Clarke's face so their eyes would meet, land and sky colliding in perfect chaos, "Yu tombom dula laud." Lexa whispered.

"Ai fir raun," Clarke admitted almost silently.

"Of what?"

Something overcame Clarke in that moment, with Lexa's eyes seeing into her soul and her hands caressing her face, Clarke felt safe. She felt loved. So Clarke followed her heart for once and leaned forward, placing her lips against the commanders.

Her eyes fluttered shut as Lexa overwhelmed all of her senses. Her hands softly traced Lexa's back and hips as their lips continued to move together. Their foreheads were pressed together and they giggled when their noses would brush against each other's. Lexa's lips were smooth and soft and Clarke was quickly becoming lost in the feeling of them.

They parted slowly, neither girl wanting to end their perfect moment. They continued to lean into each other, their foreheads resting together as Lexa rubbed small circles into Clarke's hips. 

Lexa was slightly worried, Clarke had yet to open her eyes and her lower lip was quivering.

"Klark?" She asked softly.

When no response came, she tried again, "Klark, beja. Open your eyes."

When blue clouded her vision, Lexa scanned for any hint of regret, she found none. But she wasn't comforted as tears made their way down pale cheeks.

"What's wrong, Clarke?"

It was the brilliant smile that graced Clarke's features that finally put Lexa's worries to rest, "Nothing." Clarke laughed as she threw herself into Lexa's arms, "Everything's perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miya- Come here.  
> Yu tombom dula laud- You heart is beating loudly.  
> Ai fir raun- I am afraid.


	16. I Can Explain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke tells the story of Wanheda to the Ambassadors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know guys, I don't think this chapter was all I wanted it to be. But, I also really wanted to sit down and get something out to you guys so let me know what you think.

The doors burst open and Clarke sauntered in, armor on and ready for battle. Lexa had to admit she was surprised, she wasn't expecting Clarke's interference during this meeting. This was either about to take a surprising turn for the worst, or she was about to have to stop a war.

Clarke stood boldly in front of Lexa. Her chin high and fear erased from her eyes.

"I am here to speak for myself, Commander. I can explain my own journey for those who wish to crucify me."

Lexa raised an eyebrow and nodded her permission, so Clarke turned to face down the ambassadors. 

"Ai laik Wanheda. Ai nou don kru. Ai laik sleya kom Maun-de, ripa kom mounon. Who questions me?"

The ambassadors looked between each other, waiting to see who would be the most daring, who would be the first to directly speak against Wanheda.

"I do."

Clarke narrowed her eyes as the ice queen herself, Nia of Azgeda, stood from her chair and met Clarke's steely gaze head-on. 

"I do not believe the tales I have been told of you. I know my fellow ambassadors question you as well, though they are too cowardly to speak up. I, however, am not. How are we supposed to believe you are who they say you are? That you have done the things you claim? And if these legends are in fact true, how are we to know that you pose no threat to the thirteen clans and the coalition?"

Clarke took a deep breath, psyching herself up to drop her defenses and relive her past in front of these people. It was something she'd realized she needed to do last night after a particularly haunting night terror. She'd been out on the balcony watching over the peaceful city in the moonlight. 

She wanted to stay here in Polis, could herself making a home here. So, she needed to convince the people in power to let her stay, that she was an asset. Maybe then she could truly begin to heal.

As she began to bear her soul, she felt Lexa come to stand behind her, and though she knew the other leaders would see it as her validating Clarke's words, she knew Lexa was doing it to show her support. As she spoke, she made sure to make eye contact with each ambassador, but she couldn't bring herself to look at her mother.

"I was imprisoned on the Ark at the age of sixteen after ai nontu was put daun for natronanes. He knew that Ark was dying and was trying to tell the public. He told me of his plans and I was also arrested for natronanes. Before my eighteenth birthday, Chancellor Jaha sent the hundred to the ground. 

When Onya sent Trikru to eliminate us, we had to fight back. But, oso na don laik gonakru. I burned three hundred warriors alive, at the expense of my own kru being taken by the Maun-de. After seeing what the Maunon were doing to the clans, I escaped with Onya. She was killed upon arrival at the Skaikru camp. I vowed then to take down the mountain, no matter the cost. 

I killed my lover, Finn Collins after he was sentenced to death by a thousand cuts for the murder of eighteen TonDC villagers. He did so in my name. 

After that, Heda and I made plans to demolish the mountain. We were seeking justice for our people, and the plan would have worked, but the Maunon offered Heda a deal."

Clarke took a shuddering breath, knowing that this was the beginning of her memory that she hadn't made Peace with yet. She closed her eyes and felt Lexa place a light hand on the small of her back, Clarke nodded to herself. She could do this.

"If Heda took the deal, her kru, your kru, would be released from the Maun-de. All she had to do was take her army and walk away. So she did. 

Refusing to let my people continue to be held within the mountain, I found another way to infiltrate their defenses and I killed every last one of the Maunon. I leaked radiation in and over three hundred and fifty men, woman, and children burned in front of my eyes. Their screams echoed off of the walls, but all I could think about was getting my people out."

Clarke risked a peek at her mother, and she wished she'd had the control not to. She saw so many emotions on Abby's face and saw the tears building in her eyes. She turned to stare down the ice queen then, everything she'd just told they already knew. This was the part that counted. 

"I couldn't return to Skaikru trap and face what I had done, so ai don raun we. I laid down my title and I left to face my demons. I starved myself at first, didn't sleep at all, but nothing worked."

Clarke unconsciously ran a hand over the scars by her ribs. She'd tried to kill herself, that was something she had yet to tell anyone. When Lexa had found her in the cave and she'd spoken of killing herself the next morning, she meant it. But she hadn't shared that that would be the third time she'd have tried. 

The scars blended enough into the panter's that if you didn't look close enough, you wouldn't question it. But those two angry parallel marks weren't from the panter. They were the reminder of two failed attempts of piercing her own heart. Self-preservation had won both times.

She shook her head of the memories and continued on, ready for this to be over so she could retreat back to her room, "I went back to the Maun-de. I pulled each body outside and wiped the blood from the walls. I gave each of the dead a proper burial and for every gona I build a pyre.

I wasn't the same person after that, and I left any friends that I had made and retreated to a small cave on the border of Azgeda. I nearly lost my mind. I would have, if Heda hadn't come for me. 

She brought me here to Polis. 

I am here.

I am Wanheda.

Death bows before me and the dead follow me.

Does anyone question me further?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ai laik Wanheda. Ai nou don kru. Ai laik sleya kom Maun-de, ripa kom mounon - I am Wanheda. I don't have a people. I am the slayer of the mountain-murder of the mountain men. (something like that lol)  
> ai nontu was put daun for natronanes - my father was killed for treason.  
> oso na don laik gonakru - We were not warriors.


	17. Anything You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cute fluffy gay times at the lake

The room remained cloaked in silence as the ambassadors sat in shock, absorbing all that Clarke had told them. It was the bare minimum of what they needed to know and that was all she was willing to give. They didn’t need to like her, she just needed to win them over enough to let her stay. She didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“If no one has any further grievances to take up with Wanheda, then I declare this meeting of the coalition finished. I’ll see you all tomorrow where we will discuss other matters. You are dismissed.”

The ambassadors slowly rose and bowed to Lexa and spoke lowly, “Heda.” before filling out of the room. Abby was the last to leave, trying to get Clarke to meet her eyes, begging her little girl to talk to her after all this time, but the blonde’s gaze remained fixed on the floor. Abby sighed and left defeated, the guards shutting the large doors behind her and leaving Clarke and Lexa alone.

Once everyone had left, Clarke cracked. Her shoulders sagged and she let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she lowered herself to a sitting position on the steps of the dais. Lexa followed her down, pulling Clarke into a tight embrace and resting her chin on top of her sunshine hair.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your meeting.”

“Shh. You need not worry. You did well, hodnes.”

They stayed like that for a while, Lexa holding Clarke and Clarke letting herself be held as her emotions waged a war inside her body. She wanted to break down and tell Lexa everything, how every mark on her body was made, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She hadn’t accepted her own story yet and knew that until she did, no one else would be hearing it.

Lexa gazed out the window as Clarke was lost in thought, determining that the sun was barely highest in the sky. They still had all day left to do whatever they wanted. She’d planned for the meeting to take longer, but Clarke’s interruption and confession had thrown everyone in the room, and Lexa decided it was best to resume the meeting another time and let the ambassadors ponder all Clarke had said.

“What would you like to do with the rest of the day, Klark?”

The blonde broke from her arms and turned to face her, running a gentle hand down her cheek, “Can we go somewhere? Just us? I want to get away for a while.”

“Of course.” And then softer, “Anything you want.”

 

 

"Where are you taking me?" Clarke wondered with a small smile on her face as she stared at the playful side of Lexa in wonder. 

Lexa chuckled lightly, her commander gear and warpaint gone, her hair bouncing in its natural soft waves as she pulled Clarke along by the hand, slowly maneuvering them through the dense forest, “It’s one of my favorite places, you’ll see.”

It was a few miles later that they broke through the treeline and Clarke gasped, staring forward in awe. Seemingly in the middle of the forest, there was a lake. A large, dark, calm and inviting lake which Lexa continued towards, a smile gracing her lips.

Lexa already had her leather boots off and her toes in the water by the time Clarke broke out of her daze and caught up with her.

“How did you know this was here?”

“I found it many years ago, during one of my trials as a Nightblood. We were to survive in the forest on our own without the help of the other warriors or each other. The trial lasted ten days, and I spent eight of them here.”

She turned to face Clarke, the shorter girl’s wide blue eyes filled with excitement and love, “To my knowledge, no one else in Polis knows this lake exists. Except for me, and now, you.”

Clarke pressed forward and meshed Lexa’s lips with her own, bringing her hands around to tangle in the brunette’s baby hair on the back of her neck with Lexa’s strong hands went to caress her hips.

When they parted for air, Clarke kept her eyes closed, revealing in the free feeling being in the place with Lexa gave her.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Would you like to go for a swim, hodnes?”

Clarke nodded and giggled as Lexa kissed her again before turning away to strip down to her chest binding and underwear. Clarke did the same and folded her things in a neat pile by one of the trees before meeting Lexa back at the edge of the lake.

She took Lexa’s hand as the brunette stepped into the water, “I don’t actually think I know how to swim..” Clarke admitted, her face turning pink with embarrassment, “We didn’t exactly have the resources or space up on the Ark.”

“Then I’ll teach you.” Lexa soothed.

A few hours passed as Clarke slowly gained her confidence in the deeper water, and both girls filled the clearing with loud laughter and sweet words of affection as they splashed each other and kissed like reckless teenagers.

Once Clarke got tired of treading, they sat in the waist high water and leaned against each other, letting the warm water lap against their bare skin. Clarke tilted her head back and sighed as Lexa leaned down to leave a trail of hot kisses on her shoulder and the side of her neck, coming to a stop and biting gently down on the skin behind her ear.

Lexa ran her hands up Clarke’s side, the blonde having let her control slip a little and straddled the young commander. She paused though, as her hands came into contact with rough lines instead of more smooth, pale skin.

Clarke’s eyes were closed and raised a gentle hand to cup her cheek, asking softly for her to meet her gaze, “Clarke?”

When her favorite shade of blue clouded her vision, she spoke again, “I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable, but may I ask-” she faltered, unable to voice what she wanted to.

Clarke’s expression grew confused, “Lexa, what’s wrong? You know you can ask me anything.”

Lexa sighed, cursing herself because she knew what she was about to do could destroy any and all progress that she had made with the girl.

And yet, she still found herself compelled to ask, “How did you get these scars?”

Clarke sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening as they locked with green.


	18. Battle Scars and Sweet Kisses

"I got attacked by a panther. You knew that." Clarke said slowly, praying Lexa would accept that explanation and they could forget about it.

"Clarke." Lexa breathed, "Panther's don't have six claws."

Clarke didn't want to talk about this, she didn't want to ruin the day they'd shared together, but she also couldn't deny Lexa the truth.

"No. They don't."

"Were you attacked?"

Clarke couldn't bring herself to say the words, so she let the girl underneath her make her own theory.

"No." She whispered.

"Did you injure yourself while escaping an attack? Or defending from one?"

She shook her head, her hair falling in front of her downcast eyes, "No."

"Clarke, please." Lexa asked gently, "I fear what my mind tells me is far worse than what the truth may be."

Clarke released a shuddering breath and clenched her eyes shut, "Do you remember," she began, "the night you found me in that cave?"

"Yes." Lexa answered, her brow furrowed, "Of course I do, but what does that have to do with this?"

"I told you, that I planned to end my life in the morning. I wanted peace from my past and the things I'd done."

Clarke looked up to meet sorrowful forest eyes, "But you never went away," She smiled as a few tears slipped from her eyes, "You were real. And so I didn't need to die to have peace because you brought me that peace, Lexa."

"Clarke I-" Lexa shook her head, her green eyes wide, "I still don't understand, Hodnes."

Clarke nodded and closed her eyes once more, allowing the sensation of Lexa's warm skin and the cool water surrounding them to calm her. She breathed in and out, feeling Lexa's fingertips tracing the jagged scars on her body with the most care she'd ever experienced.

"I tried to kill myself." She whispered, her voice barely registering against the soft waves lapping at their skin.

She heard Lexa gasp, "Clarke-"

"Twice." She interrupted. She knew if she didn't get this all out of her now, she may never have the courage to.

"I took a blade, and I slid it into my skin at the perfect angle to avoid the ribs and puncture my heart. But self-preservation has been beaten into me since the moment my boots touched the ground, so I couldn't do it. It took the blade out and stitched myself up with some random wire that I had."

Clarke opened her eyes as Lexa's hand traced down her cheek, strong fingers grounding her to the brunette.

"The second time I came even closer. I was going completely mad at that point. I didn't have food, I couldn't sleep, I started seeing everyone I'd ever hurt. They would yell at me and taunt me until I would do anything just to make them go away.

So, I tried to die again. I took a longer blade, made a deeper incision. I could feel the metal in my body as I breathed and all I had to do was flick my wrist and it would all be over. But, I couldn't do it. And I had to drag myself to a trading post in Azgeda and have Niylah heal me because I was so close to the edge of death.

And here I am." She finished lamely with a simple shrug.

Lexa didn't say anything right away and it only served to spike Clarke's anxiety. She knew she shouldn't have said anything.

"Lexa I-"

"You. Are. Remarkable." Lexa whispered, caressing Clarke's cheek.

The brunette pushed forward and covered the blonde's lips with her own, vowing to only ever write poetry across her pale skin from this moment forward. Clarke deserved nothing less than everything she could give to her. She could only hope the blonde would continue to accept her love and adoration in this life and the next.

 

 

They helped each other dress slowly, fingers tracing delicate skin in simple and utter adoration before entwining their hands and beginning the trek back to the tower. It took them about an hour to get back, and it seemed their absence was hardly noticed aside from an angry Titus waiting for them in the throne room pacing, but Clarke figured that was a pretty usual occurrence.

"Heda," Titus spoke as soon as the doors shut fully behind them, "Where have you been? The guards did not know where I could find you and a scout said he'd seen you leaving the walls."

"I was out." Lexa replied simply, "I took an afternoon away with Klark."

"Heda, I mean no disrespect, but you should have informed the guards so they could protect-"

"I am perfectly capable of protecting both myself and Wanheda, Titus." Lexa snapped, once again seated on her throne with Clarke standing at her side.

"If I wish to leave Polis without any warriors then who are you to question my actions?"

"Moba, Heda, but you must see reason-." Titus bowed his head, upset at being scolded for only trying to warn the young leader.

"You say you do not wish to disrespect me," Lexa's voice was quiet and both Titus and Clarke were forced to focus solely on the brunette to capture her words, "so I suggest you leave before I take any more offense to your words."

Titus sighed, standing, "Sha. Heda." He quickly turned to throw a short glare at Clarke, "Wanheda."

After he'd stormed from the room, Lexa grabbed Clarke's hand and pulled her onto her lap, the blonde following her lead obediently. Lexa wrapped her arms around the shorter girl and rested her chin on Clarke's shoulder.

Clarke giggled as Lexa's breath tickled her neck, "Why do I feel like this is something we shouldn't be doing?"

Lexa hummed, placing a kiss on Clarke's collarbone, "No one will be granted permission into this room without my consent. We're fine."

"I know that. I just meant, I mean-" Clarke moaned slightly feeling Lexa's teeth against her throat, keeping her train of thought was becoming increasingly more difficult.

"I promise, Klark. We're safe here." Lexa whispered breathily.

Clarke shook her head with an exasperated sigh and leaned in to meet Lexa's soft lips. She giggled and Lexa smiled triumphantly, briefly halting their affections before. Clarke knew that she'd made the right decision to come back with Lexa. 

Polis would heal her.

And Lexa would love her.


	19. I Didn't Want to be Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every step forward is another two back.

Clarke was up early the next morning, something feeling strangely foreboding settling deep in her stomach. She rose from the tangle of furs on the bed she now shared with Lexa every night. The young commander was still sleeping peacefully and Clarke smiled as she watched the serene expression on her face. 

She crossed into the bathroom and splashed her face with some cool water from the small basin in front of the slightly cracked mirror. She stared at her reflection as she knotted her hair into a quick messy braid and then crossed back into the bedroom to slip on some tight black pants and a loose grey top.

She exited the room as quietly as possible, wanting Lexa to get plenty of much-needed rest. She passed some of the Ambassadors in the halls and they all nodded to her with respect in their eyes. She waved good morning and smiled at the guards on duty as she passed by to get outside.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon as Clarke began walking through the near-barren marketplace. She took her steps slowly, simply enjoying the crisp morning air as it greeted the waking city of Polis.

She came to a stop and the now familiar vendor and knocked three times against the side wall, getting the attention of the girl in the back. Larkin peeked her head around the fur separating the front of the stand and the back inventory, a bright smile immediately lit up her face when she saw who was waiting for her.

"Klark!"

Clarke smiled as well, happy to see the young girl again, "Shanen dayon, Larken."

"Shopta?" Larkin wondered.

Clarke smiled and nodded appreciatively, "Toli os, mochof."

"What can I get you this morning?"

Clarke furrowed her brow in concentration as she scanned the various fruits laid out before her. Some she'd come to love, and others she detested. She wasn't sure she wanted to try some of them by the way they looked.

"Just an apple today." She decided, placing a few coins in the girl's hand as she handed Clarke her breakfast.

Larkin thanked her and wished her well before turning back to her inventory. Clarke did the same before making the rest of her trek to the training pits, taking bits of her apple as she went and almost moaning at the taste. Food on the ground was so much better.

When she reached the pits, she tossed her apple core into the woods and moved to the racks of training weapons open for use. She picked a double bladed staff and walked into one of the many open rings. She was alone in the pits for now but knew it would only be a matter of time before others woke up to join her in morning training.

She closed her eyes to center her mind and relaxed each of her muscles, knowing either a tight stance or a distracted mind would most likely cost her in battle. She opened her eyes and focused only on what was, not what could be; distractions could be fatal.

She adjusted her stance keeping her feet spread apart and practiced flowing her movements together by sliding her feet from one stance to another instead of lifting her feet to step in an attempt to keep her balance stronger. She kept her posture straight but loose and began to swing the staff around her body in a simple series of attacks and blocks.

She did that a few times before switching to a more complex series, relishing in the stretch of her muscles and the fluidity of the transitions. She wasn't quite used to the perfection of these weapons yet, amazed at the grounder's blacksmithing skills as the metal in her hands slid gracefully through the air. She'd really only used guns and makeshift weapons, though some of the skills did thankfully translate.

"I didn't know you were so good at that." Came a familiar voice from the sidelines.

Clarke paused her movements for only a moment, glancing over her shoulder at the newcomer before refocusing on her training.

"Mom." She acknowledged. 

"You haven't said more than a few words to me since I've been here."

"I didn't have anything to say, didn't know what to say. I still don't." Clarke defended as she continued her movements.

"How about explaining where the hell you've been? You were gone for months, Clarke! No word, no trace left behind. I didn't know if you were alive! I woke up in the infirmary asking for you only to be told that you were missing!" Abby exclaimed, exasperated. 

"I wasn't missing, mom." Clarke argued, her attacks became more frantic and disjointed as she became more upset, "I left. There's a difference." 

"But why did you leave? There was no reason to, we won!" Her mother yelled in frustration.

Clarke turned and threw her staff, one of its blade embedding itself precisely in the tree next to her mother's enraged figure.

"I left because I committed the genocide of an entire population! I left because I didn't want to be found! I wanted to die!" Clarke screamed, her face turning red in her fury.

The world seemed to hold its breath as Clarke and Abby stared at each other. Abby's heart broke for her daughter and Clarke sighed as she seemed to physically deflate.

"Mom-" She tried, her voice small and tired.

"No, Clarke. I understand." Abby nodded in her direction, tears in her eyes, and walked away.

Clarke watched her walk away and sank to the ground, the dusty pit covering her pants as she pulled her knees to her chest, leaning her forehead against her knees. And it was there, on a bright morning and surround my empty training pits, that Clarke wept. But for once, it wasn't for other people, Clarke wept for all she had had to do, and all she had given up, and all she had lost. 

Wanheda laid in the dirt and wept for her existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shanen dayon, Larken- Good morning, Larkin (good today)
> 
> Shopta?- How are you?
> 
> Toli os, mochof- very good, thank you


	20. Nothing to Prove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter because it's been so long and I just wanted to get something out there

When Lexa found her later that morning, Clarke was back to training with a controlled expression. She didn't need every warrior in Polis to see her breakdown after a petty argument with her mother, so she'd schooled her features after a few minutes and picked up her staff once again.

"It always surprises me how good you are at that. I forget sometimes." Lexa admired as she observed Clarke's movements from just outside the dirt ring.

Clarke shook her head slightly, "I'm not nearly as good as everyone else. They've been trained for this since birth. I have a lot of catching up to do."

Lexa stepped into the ring, sliding one arm around Clarke's waist and holding the other over her hand, "You give yourself no credit, Hodnes," she whispered into the blonde's ear as she guided their movements into a more advanced pattern, "Each of my warriors has had top instructors appointed to their individual needs since they were but a young goufa, but you, Clarke, you taught yourself far more than that just to survive. Everyone in this city respects you. You have nothing left to prove, to them or to me."

Clarke snuck a quick glance around, not used to having Lexa be so outwardly personal and affectionate with her. And sure enough, the few warriors that were training around them kept glancing at them with confusion and a strange look that Clarke couldn't quite place.

"Everyone's staring, Lex." She mumbled.

"Let them," Lexa dismissed, continuing to lead their movements in complicated, graceful arrangements, "They are smart enough to mind their own business."

Clarke giggled quietly and a small smile came over her features, "Okay."

"What's so funny, Clarke?" Lexa scolded lightly, "Training is a serious matter."

"Sorry," Clarke said as she managed to suppress her laughter, "It just feels odd to have you like this. It feels kind of like we're dancing, in a strange way."

Without warning, Lexa paused and Clarke turned to face her with concern and confusion, fearing she had shattered their content bubble, "What? What did I say wrong?"

"We never celebrated your return." Lexa's eyebrows furrowed as she realized this fact.

In Polis, any reunion of people was customarily celebrated with a feast throughout the city. Because of Clarke's title, her presence in Polis should have spurred on a week-long festival. But she'd let it slip her mind in her haste to care for the blonde.

"What are you talking about?" Clarke was still unsure what had caused Lexa's sudden distress.

"I should have held a festival in your honor, Clarke. To celebrate the returning of Wanheda to our people. To me." She added the last part almost silently while shaking her head, still upset with her lapse in thought.

"I'll do it at once." She promised earnestly.

"Hey, hey," Clarke guided Lexa's gaze back to her own with a hand under her jaw, "calm down. Everything's fine. We can celebrate or not celebrate. It doesn't matter to me."

"I will arrange it," Lexa swore again with determination, her hands falling to her sides as Clarke turned to face her fully. "I will line the streets in decorations and feasts and dances to honor you." 

Clarke blushed, "You really don't have to do all of that." She didn't need some big celebration in her honor. There wasn't really anything to honor her for.

"I want to." Lexa nodded, tucking a strand of Clarke's hair back into her braid.

 

 

Clarke stared at her reflection in the old mirror. Her body, freshly scrubbed pink in the hot bath, was beginning to fill out again due to the surplus of available food in the city. Her ribs no longer poked out from her pale skin quite so sharply and her hips were beginning to round out once again. She glanced at her defined muscles, the strength she'd gained in the past months that she'd never needed in space.

She watched as tan, strong arms wrapped around her waist and Lexa's brunette curls appeared behind her, "What are you still doing in here, Hodnes?" Lexa whispered into her ear, sending a shiver down Clarke's spine and pulling her from her daze.

"Just thinking," Clarke replied quietly, watching as their bodies fit perfectly together in the mirror.

Lexa placed a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder and took a stepped back, pulling Clarke by the hand, "Come. It's time for rest."

Lexa led Clarke over to the bed, lifting the soft furs and waiting for Clarke to settle before joining her, letting the warmth the furs provided encompass them. She opened her arms and held Clarke close to her chest as she burrowed into Lexa's neck. 

"Goodnight, Lexa," Clarke muttered, placing a lingering kiss on Lexa's pulse.

"Reshop, ai Prisa." Lexa returned as they drifted off.


	21. The Mountain is Mine

"Clarke, beja, sit still," Lexa said in exasperation as Clarke continued to strain her neck in an attempt to see into the mirror across the room, effectively messing up the intricate braids that she was trying to weave into the girl's sunlight hair.

"But I want to see," Clarke wined in a childlike manner, continuing to fidget.

"Enough," Lexa snapped without malice, gently tugging on her the ends of her hair.

"I must finish this before the sun sets," she joked as the morning light slowly trickled into the room through the fluttering curtains of the open balcony doors.

Clarke's movements halted, and Lexa caught her lower lip jutting out slightly from a quick glimpse in the mirror. She leaned forward to place a soft, caressing kiss on the back of Clarke's bare shoulder.

They were sitting in the middle of the bed, furs pushed this way and that from their previous night's sleep. She'd helped Clarke bind her chest comfortably and insisted now was the best time to begin their preparation for tonight's festival.

"Don't pout, hodnes. I am almost done." She said quietly, leaning back to continue her work.

"I'm not pouting," Clarke mumbled as a blush rose on her cheeks.

 

 

Lexa slid her pauldron over her shoulder and locked it into place, feeling her body settle under its familiar weight. Hopefully, this meeting would remain relatively short and everyone could go one with their days before joining the festivities later. Clarke paced in front of her throne as they waited for the other ambassadors to arrive, and Lexa knew something specific was on her mind.

"Clarke, your pacing is making me restless. What is the matter?"

Clarke sighed deeply, coming to sit on the steps in front of Lexa and confessing, "I don't know how you do this. I feel like I'm never ready to speak to these people. I am nothing compared to them."

Lexa wanted to deny Clarke's accusations of herself, but knew to blonde would never believe her. Instead, she tried to convince Clarke of her worthiness, "You are lethal, Hodnes, a weapon. Do not forget that. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature."

Clarke looked up at her with wonder in her bright eyes, "You really think that?"

Lexa smiled as the guards entered the room and announced the arrival of the ambassadors and she nodded for them to enter as Clarke came to stand by her side, "Yes, Klark. They respect you. I respect you."

As the leaders filed in and took their seats, Clarke tried to make eye contact with her mother, hoping to fix whatever tear in their relationship had been made recently. But Abby never entered the room. Instead, Marcus Kane took Skaikru's seat in the coalition meeting and would speak for their people. Clarke bit the inside of her cheek to hold in her frustration; clearly, she was being forced to seek out her mother on her own.

"Good morning, Ambassadors, I trust you slept well." Lexa began, bringing the room to attention.

"Good morning, Heda." They replied with a nod of their heads as they sat in their designated chairs.

"We're here today to finish discussions from yesterday, seeing as Wanheda decided to speak up and answer your unasked questions." She continued. Clarke kept her features smooth and rigid as she felt all 12 gazes studying her. She refused to back down as she met each pair of eyes with a determined stare.

"As you recall, we were discussing the possibility of new trade routes linking Floukru to Skaikru using Trikru as means of passage. There was also talk of Skaikru's plans for the Maun-de." Lexa added the second part reluctantly, feeling Clarke stiffen at her side as she'd predicted the blonde would. 

Luna, the Ambassador of Floukru and Lexa's good friend, stood and addressed her. "There is no hesitation for Floukru to trade both materials and knowledge of the land with the newest clan. If Trikru is willing to let out route pass through their encampments, it would lower travel time and significantly lessen the level of danger to all moving parties."

Indra stood, acting as the Ambassador of Trikru, and spoke next, "Trikru is willing to offer full cooperation for this trade deal and will even house the traders for a small gift of materials as they pass through."

Clarke watched surprise flicker across Kane's face, she assumed he hadn't expected the grounders to appeal to his ideas. She also wondered if they were still being referred to as 'savages' back at Camp. She didn't really want to know if she was being honest with herself, suspecting she wouldn't be pleased with the answer.

"Then it's settled," Lexa announced with a small smile of pride, "The route will be mapped out in the coming season and we will set to establish the path this spring." 

 

 

"Absolutely not!" Clarke burst suddenly, interrupting Kane as he proposed his idea to Lexa and the Ambassadors.

"Clarke!" Marcus chastized through his embarrassment, "Be reasonable."

The blonde bristled at Lexa's side and the brunette was forced to place a restraining hand on her arm to keep her from crossing over to where the Chancellor was standing. 

"Chancellor," Lexa addressed calmly, "I would remind you to treat your fellow leaders with respect and thus refer to Wanheda as such."

"My apologies, Heda, Wanheda," He conceded with a bowed head, realizing his slip of the tongue.

"You may continue," she permitted, throwing a quick glance to Clarke and pleading for her to behave.

"Skaikru stands divided. The original children that we sent down here, the ones left alive anyway, feel that the mountain should remain vacant. However, our more mature population wishes to move our civilization into the protected walls of the mountain and continue to explore the technology held inside."

Lexa could sense Clarke fuming and decided that she should get her say since it was she that actually brought the mountain down.

"Thank you for your proposition, Ambassador. Wanheda, you may speak to the matter if you wish."

Clarke took determined strides down the stairs and stood to face the circle of Ambassadors, staring down Kane with a ferocious expression in her eyes that she rarely held. 

"Those children that the Chancellor so flippantly referred to were sent down to the ground to die and have survived here longer than his so-called mature population. I led them when we first arrived here and I lead them now. They are not his people. They are mine. I irradiated the Mountain Men, all three-hundred and fifty of their lives stain my hands with blood. The Mountain is mine. Skaikru holds no claim to its fate."

"What do you suggest is done, Wanheda?" The Ambassador from Trishanakru, Rafel, questioned. 

"Nothing," Clarke answered with finality. "The Mount Weather shall remain vacant and the fields around it a graveyard. It will serve as a permanent reminder of what happens when a people goes too far."

The remaining Ambassadors voted and though some were wary, they did side with Kane because they were fearful that the tek of the mountain would be turned against them. However, the majority of clan leaders sided with Clarke, and ultimately, she was victorious. 

She watched as everyone filed out of the room after Lexa's dismissal, Marcus's dark eyes never leaving hers.


End file.
